


Undesirable

by slashpervert



Series: Undesirable [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal, Blood, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Explicit Violent Sex, Forced Anal, Forced Oral, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Oral, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape & Torture in Flashbacks, Rimming, Torture, Violence, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 82,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2716400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashpervert/pseuds/slashpervert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy studied in France after the war and became a Healer. He returns to find Harry Potter is a mental patient. Malfoy is the only one who seems to be able to reach the war-traumatized hero. Will he risk his career to help Harry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Undesirable Number One

**Author's Note:**

> **Authors:** [](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/profile)[**slashpervert**](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/) and [](http://aveeno-baby.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://aveeno-baby.livejournal.com/)**aveeno_baby**.  
>  **Betas:** [](http://brknhalo241.livejournal.com/profile)[**brknhalo241**](http://brknhalo241.livejournal.com/) , **Mini Mouse** , [](http://1over137pt036.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://1over137pt036.livejournal.com/)**1over137pt036**  
>  First posted on Livejournal May 11-July 17, 2008. Post-war, AU after HBP, not DH compliant. Bulk of the story is post-war, but with ten flashbacks to during the war. While not a "song fic," this story did take some inspiration from songs "Unlovable" and "So Beautiful" by Darren Hayes. Thanks to [](http://corvusdea.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://corvusdea.livejournal.com/)**corvusdea** for help with Latin for spells.  
>  **Warnings/Content Labels:** _For the primary story:_ Language, Explicit, M/M Sex, Masturbation, Oral, Rimming, and Anal. Dubious consent for inappropriate behavior between therapist/patient. _For the ten flashbacks:_ Language, M/M Sex, Explicit Violent Sex, Forced Anal, Forced Oral, Bondage, Dom/Sub, Rape, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, Pain, Violence, Blood, Torture, and other Character Deaths mentioned, three depicted. (Characters in this fiction are over 18.)  
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a non-commercial work of fan fiction intended for adult audiences only. No copyright infringement intended. ([Full Disclaimer!](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/109952.html))  
>  **Distribution:** Distribution is limited to personal use. Do NOT repost without written permission. See explanation [HERE](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/242164.html). You can find links to translations of my stories [HERE](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/208619.html).

_Are my lips unkissable?_  
 _Are my eyes unlookable?_  
 _Is my sex undoable?_  
 _Am I unlovable?_  
 _Are my words unlistenable?_  
 _Are my hands untouchable?_  
 _Am I undesirable?_  
 _Am I unlovable?_  
\-- from "Unlovable" by Darren Hayes

 

Draco stood with his arms crossed over his chest and scowled. He was looking through a magical one-way window into the observation room. "How long has he been like this?" he asked Healer Rogers standing next to him.

She shook her head. "He was bad after the final battle but we thought he was getting better," she said. "We released him. Apparently he got progressively worse. His friends found him like this in his home when they went to find out why he hadn't been answering them. That was almost two years ago."

Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, defeater of Voldemort, was a mess. His black hair was ragged and matted, his skin sallow and his body skeletal-thin with his collarbone showing at the top of his pyjamas which hung loosely on his body. His glasses were missing. He sat hunched over in a hospital bed, babbling at no one. "They think I can't, but I can," Harry mumbled, looking suspiciously around the room, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was rocking as he mumbled and, at one point, his gaze stopped on the blank wall directly across from him. His eyes narrowed and his rocking increased. "I can, I can, I can ...."

In contrast, Draco was strong and muscular, his thin frame having filled out some since his days at Hogwarts. His hair was longer now, white blond, tied neatly back at his neck and flowing down over the stylish high collar of his green Healer's robes. "Where are his glasses?" Draco asked Rogers.

"Broken. Every time we repair or replace them, he breaks them again," she explained.

Draco shook his head. It was a horrible sight. Even at his worst moments when they were rivals, he would never have wished this on Potter. "Why me?" he asked the woman. "I just started my work here. I haven’t even been back in the country a week."

"We were wondering if someone from his past might be able to reach him," Rogers said. "He doesn't react to any of our staff. And he has become even more withdrawn when his friends come in. Maybe someone he didn’t like …."

"And if he ignores me?" Draco asked her.

"You won't know until you at least try," she said, scowling.

Draco nodded unhappily and walked to the door. He took a deep breath and opened the door, entering the observation room with nearly as much trepidation as he would if he were going to face a trial. He should know. He’d done that, of course.

***

After several more minutes of concentrating hard on the wall Harry looked away with a groan and down at himself, reaching to pull at the sleeve of his hospital pyjamas. He coughed and went silent, his attention focused now on a few loose threads on the sleeve. If he could pull them out it would make everything better again, he thought, nodding to himself and getting to work. He didn't look up when the door opened, still trying to catch the thread in between his fingertips.

Draco stood contemplating the man for a minute, watching the thin wrists and the bruised shadows lurking beneath those glazed green eyes. "And I thought you were a mess at school," he sneered. "Pathetic."

Harry went completely still at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, so familiar. Familiar was good sometimes, but this was bad. "Bad, bad," he whispered, peering up through his fringe at the blurry blond.

"Bad?" Draco asked. "I'm doing just fine. You are the one whimpering like a first year in Snape's detention."

Harry didn't like this at all. He glanced back at the blank wall for a moment before looking once more toward the figure of Malfoy. Getting into a slightly defensive pose on the bed, he growled, his fingers curling in the sheets.

"Growling?" Draco sneered. "What? Lupin bite you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, his body beginning to rock on the bed again, as if he were planning on lunging at Malfoy. "Bad," he growled.

Draco frowned. He wasn't sure if the word "bad" was a response to him or not. He shook his head and turned to leave.

Harry stopped moving once Malfoy turned away, his fingers uncurling. "Malfoy," he said slowly, dragging the name out.

Draco's head snapped back and he stopped. He turned around and stared at Potter. _Oh hell_ , he thought. "Yes, Potter, it's me," he answered.

Harry looked at him for a long moment, beginning to chew on his bottom lip. "You can't," he said, his lips quirking up in a strange smile. "You can't, no one can." He was biting down harder on his lip.

"Can't what, Potter?" Draco asked, keeping up the sneer that he hadn't spoken in since he left Hogwarts.

Harry shook his head firmly, finally biting through the skin of his lip. "You can't!" he exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing.

Draco looked past the bed to the observation wall – a one-way charm where he knew Rogers was watching on the other side. He shook his head. He knew this meant that "the patient" was responding to him. It meant Harry Potter was now his responsibility.

***

The cell was cold and damp. Harry had been beaten, stripped and then thrown into the dark stone room. Harry had no idea how long it had been since he had been captured. It seemed like weeks, but could have been only days. He had taken to slowly walking the best he could around the room in the beginning, trailing his hand along the walls to see just how big the room was. It was small and square and he could pace from corner to corner in four strides. When he wasn't pacing, he ended up sitting down and pulling his legs up to his chest to try and retain the heat in his body.

He had spent most of the last year on the run, hiding from Voldemort while hunting and destroying Horcruxes. It was ironic to have gotten so close, only to have been captured. At least the Horcrux they presumed to have been the last one, that fucking snake, was dead. But it would all be in vain now. The only thing he didn't understand was why Voldemort hadn't killed him already.

There was a muffled noise and then the door creaked open, the light blinding Harry. "Stand up," a voice barked from the painful light. Harry didn't get up, reaching instead to pull his glasses off and rub at his eyes.

The light was blocked momentarily as a shadow loomed over him, grabbing his hair and yanking him to his feet.

Harry groaned and reached up to scratch at the hand to let go of his hair, feeling very unstable on his feet after going so long without food. The hand released him quickly, dropping him to the floor and then he heard "Crucio" as the light of the spell blinded him again and the pain lashed through his body. Harry cried out, feeling nothing but complete and absolute torture. He writhed naked on the stone floor until the spell was stopped, leaving him gasping.

"Get up," an angry voice repeated.

Harry gathered up his strength, slowly rolling over, and got up, leaning against the wall.

"Hold out your hands," the man barked.

Harry hesitated, shakily pushing his glasses on first before he held them out, scowling at whoever the man was. Iron bands snapped into place around Harry's wrists, attached to a chain that the man then yanked forward. Harry stumbled and would've fallen if it weren't for the chain holding him up.

Two Death Eaters, in the usual black robes and masks, with wands drawn, led him down dark stone halls and through a big wooden door into a large bedroom chamber. A fire crackled in a stone hearth, a rug and chairs in front of it. A large ornate bed dominated the room. No one was immediately visible but the guards shoved Harry to his knees.

Harry groaned as his already sore knees were slammed into the stone of the floor. He quickly looked around the big room, almost glad that he managed to still have his glasses, even though one of the lenses had cracked. Where was he now?

"Leave him," Voldemort's voice said from one of the chairs whose back was still to them. Harry saw a white bony hand wave at them. The guards backed out and left him on the floor, closing the door behind them.

Harry froze, his head snapping in the direction of the voice. His hands clenched into fists and he wished he had his wand, because then he could finally kill Voldemort ... once and for all.

There was a table to the side and Harry could smell food, the thick smell of roast and spices. His gaze wandered over to the table next to him, his stomach grumbling loudly at the smell. He flushed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten.

"Hungry, Harry?" Voldemort asked, casually.

Harry frowned but didn't reply, glaring a hole into the back of the chair.

"I suppose he will just have to watch us eat then," Voldemort said. "What do you think, Lucius?”

Harry didn't know where Lucius was and ended up directing his glare around the entire room.

Lucius sat forward in the other chair, looking over his shoulder at Potter. His long white-blond hair flowed down his back.

"Bastard," Harry growled once he got a view of Lucius.

Lucius laughed and got to his feet, revealing he was wearing only a black silk dressing gown. He padded barefoot over to the table and picked up a strawberry from a bowl, turning to look at Harry while he slowly ate the fruit.

Harry looked away with yet another scowl on his face, his stomach grumbling again.

Voldemort rose then, too. Wearing a similar robe in a shade of dark red, he walked up to Lucius and trailed his fingers down the other man's hair.

Harry tried not to look at either of the men, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of his attention.

Lucius lifted another strawberry to his master's lips, feeding it to him. Voldemort licked the other man's fingers when he had taken the last bite.

Harry swallowed, the smell of the food that was still floating in the air making him feel a little lightheaded. He made the mistake of looking over at the table and caught the act between Voldemort and Lucius, almost making his stomach heave. It was strange to think of the two of them dressed as they were and lovers apparently.

Lucius looked over, catching Harry's eyes and smiling. He lifted his wand then and gestured upward. The chain jerked upward, pulling Harry until he was on the balls of his feet, shoulders aching from the rough treatment. Harry gasped loudly in surprise, gritting his teeth when he was unable to relieve the pressure on his shoulders.

Lucius walked slowly forward. "Well, I guess we will skip your meal then and move on to the entertainment."

Harry ignored the other man and tried to pull his hands out of the cuffs, closing his eyes as it only made spikes of pain run down his arms.

Lucius flicked his wand, muttering and Harry felt the _Scourgify_ over his entire body. Harry made a face at the tingling feeling the spell left behind, not expecting that to be used on him at all.

Lucius stepped in front of Harry, reaching manicured fingers out to ghost over Harry's chest and Harry tried his best to arch away from the fingers, not wanting them to ever touch his skin.

Voldemort laughed. "Well, he has refused the food and your gentle touch, Lucius. I suppose you will have to try a different approach."

Harry cringed at the sound of Voldemort's laugh, not knowing what to think might happen next.

"You have a choice, Harry," Lucius said. "You can cooperate, and we will be more gentle and even feed you. Or … we can break you."

Harry's hands clenched into fists once again. "I'd rather die than cooperate with the likes of the two of you," he said firmly, obviously choosing the second choice.

"Not a choice we will give you," Voldemort said, "not until we are done with you."

Lucius stepped back. " _Candens Flagellum_ ," he said, as he flicked his wrist again and white strands shot out of the tip on of his wand. He swirled it and the strands moved. "We are going to make you beg, Harry," he whispered.

Harry watched, not sure of what Malfoy was doing until he moved his wand, the strands slicing through the air as though it could have been some kind of a whip. Harry's eyes widened and he tried to shift away, even though it was no use. Lucius smiled and flicked his wrist, the white strands wrapping about the front of Harry's body. Every point of contact was suddenly searing pain. A scream was ripped from Harry's throat before he could stop it, his eyes squeezing tightly shut.

Lucius drew the magic whip back again, and it felt like it tore Harry's skin with it. The next blow landed across Harry's back, wrapping up around his right side. Tears of pain sprang to Harry's eyes, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He struggled to get away, but he knew there was no point.

The third blow was laid across Harry's buttocks, ends of the whip strands wrapping around his right hip. He writhed in the chains, shoulders aching as it felt like his arms were ripping out their sockets. After that he lost count, the searing agony blending into a fire that seemed to consume him. He did beg eventually, helpless, whimpering and screaming, but Lucius never stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be a rough ride, this one. SP


	2. Undesirable Number One

Draco conferred with the other Healers and found that they were excited by Potter's reaction to him. In months of treatment, Potter had ignored all attempts to communicate. They assigned Draco to his case. He had argued that he was hardly an objective person to deal with Potter. That their history made him an inappropriate person to be Potter's Healer. It had been to no avail. It was embarrassing to the staff that a high profile figure like Harry Potter would still be without improvement and Draco had a sneaking suspicion that he was being set up to take the fall if it didn’t work.  
  
Now the blond stood again in the room with Potter. He had insisted that they turn off the observation spell before he went in. "So, Potter, still lazing around?" he asked the man.  
  
Harry tilted his head to the side when Malfoy walked in again, still in the same spot he was in before. He didn't like the rest of the bed. Harry watched him instead of replying, reaching at one point to grip the ends of his own long hair and pull. "Wrong," he mumbled, looking at the hair in his hand before squinting up at Malfoy's hair.  
  
Draco shook his head. "I suppose we will have to cut your hair. Even a Detangling Spell isn't likely to be able to get those knots out."  
  
"You cut yours," Harry said quietly, resting his cheek on the tops of his knees.  
  
"Did I?," Draco asked, not hiding the surprise from his voice and stepping closer.  
  
Harry cringed when he heard the footsteps, but he didn't move away. He peered at Malfoy's face, able to see him better now that he was closer. Younger, not the older one, he thought. Harry blinked a few times before he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, softly crying out and reaching up to press his hands against his ears.  
  
Draco frowned. Did Potter really know who he was or was he confusing him with his father? "Do you know who I am?" he asked.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said, slowly opening his eyes again.  
  
"Which one?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
Harry was beginning to shiver with the memories that assaulted his mind again, but he looked over at the other man once more. "Younger," he whispered.  
  
"Yes," Draco confirmed, pleased with even that little progress. "Do you remember my name?"  
  
"Dra-Draco," Harry stuttered out, swallowing and closing his eyes again.  
  
"Do you know where you are?" Draco asked.  
  
But Harry didn't want to talk anymore. He clenched his teeth and turned his head away, ignoring Malfoy.  
  
"I hear you haven't been eating," Draco said, "and by the looks of you, it seems to be true." The staff had been forced to use Feeding Spells but they were not good for long term use and never as successful as natural eating.  
  
Harry didn't react or reply to Malfoy's words.  
  
"Of course, the food in here isn't exactly the best," Draco said as if agreeing with something Potter had said. He noticed the way Potter was curled up into only a small part of the bed. Ignoring the chair, Draco sat on the other end of the bed.  
  
Harry tensed up and quickly turned his head back toward Malfoy, looking at him and then down at the bed.  
  
"You don't like the bed or you don't like me on it?" Draco asked, curiously.  
  
Harry made a soft noise in the back of his throat, curling up as tightly as he could. "No ....”  
  
"The rules don't allow this, me sitting here," Draco said, smoothing the sheet of the bed near him. "But then the rules aren't supposed to allow me to be your Healer, either. Too much history."  
  
Harry began to chew on his bottom lip, watching Malfoy again, aware of his every move while on the bed.  
  
"They seem to have this idea that because you knew me before but not ... after, that I can reach you," Draco said, watching Potter's eyes.  
  
Harry blinked and shook his head, rocking himself again. "Can't."  
  
"Do you still like treacle tart?" Draco asked, abruptly changing the topic away from memories that might set the man off.  
  
Harry nodded slowly and licked his lips quickly. If he thought hard enough he could remember how it tasted.  
  
"Good," Draco said and flicked his wand, conjuring the tray he had left in the next room. It appeared on the bed, tart sitting on a plate.  
  
Harry looked down at the plate, but didn't reach for it, still wary of Malfoy.  
  
"It's not poisoned or anything," Draco said with a huff. “Unless you count being sickly sweet as poison.”  
  
"What do I have to do for it?" Harry demanded.  
  
"Nothing, it's yours," Draco answered.  
  
Harry unclenched his hands and slowly reached for the tart, watching Malfoy in case he decided to just flick his wand and make it all disappear again. When Malfoy only tucked his wand away and watched, Harry snatched it up and took a small bite, tasting it to see if there was anything strange about it. Once he decided that it was good enough, Harry devoured it.  
  
Draco smiled. He supposed having known Potter before was helpful. He had spent his Hogwarts years watching the other boy and knew a lot more about him than most people would realise. Like his favourite foods. "That's better, isn't it?"  
  
Harry finished every last bit of the tart, down to the crumbs on his fingertips. "What do you want?" he asked in a quiet whisper, not looking directly at Malfoy.  
  
"Do you know where you are?" Draco asked again.  
  
Harry wasn't expecting more questions. He was expecting … he shuddered. "Mungo’s," he mumbled.  
  
"And do you know what year it is?" Draco asked, pleased that the man seemed more lucid.  
  
Harry shook his head. In the beginning he tried to keep track of the days, but that became too hard once the sunlight was blocked.  
  
"It's 2002, Potter," Draco told him. It had been five years since Draco had last seen his childhood rival. He remembered the fire in those green eyes when they had faced off in school fights. It was disturbing to see them so dull and unfocused now.  
  
"2002," Harry repeated quietly, stretching his fingers to count them.  
  
"Three years since the end of the war," Draco reminded him.  
  
Harry tucked his hands underneath his knees and, curling up again, turned his head away from Malfoy. The end ... it seemed like ... yesterday.  
  
Draco pulled his wand again and sent the tray away. "Do you want to stay here?" he asked.  
  
"No," Harry whispered more to himself than to Malfoy.  
  
"If you could be anywhere else, where would it be?" Draco asked.  
  
"Home," Harry said quietly, closing his eyes and rocking slowly.  
  
"And where is home, Potter?" Draco asked. He had the strangest urge to reach out and touch the other man. Even sitting on the bed was against hospital policy though; hugging him could get him sacked.  
  
Harry's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, not sure himself. He wasn't sure of a lot of things, especially now that he knew how many years had gone by.  
  
Draco sighed. "I can't arrange to get you home if I don't know where that is, Potter."  
  
"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London," Harry said suddenly, remembering exactly what had been written on that paper so many years ago. He looked over his shoulder at Malfoy, "Read quickly and memorise it."  
  
Draco's eyebrows shot up. The Order had disbanded after the war, of course. "Is that your home, Potter?" he asked.  
  
Harry nodded a few times, looking lost in his mind as he rested his chin back on top of his knees. "Headquarters ....”  
  
"Well, let's see if we can get you well enough to go back to headquarters," the blond said. It was like Potter was stuck somewhere before the end of the war.  
  
"Can't," Harry murmured softly before he shifted and lay back on the bed, curling up on his side.  
  
"I know, Potter," Draco said sadly. "I have to go attend to some things. I will be back."  
  
Harry sighed and closed his eyes, still curled up as tightly as he could. While he didn't show it, he somehow felt a little better, a little more himself, than he had in a while.  
  
***  
  
Draco sat at the desk he had been assigned to and contemplated the file in front of him. It was labelled "Harry J. Potter" and was over two inches thick. It contained every report ever taken at the hospital on the man from the first time he was admitted immediately after the final battle.  
  
 _This is why they don't allow us to treat people we know personally_ , Draco thought as his hand shook when he reached to open it. He had heard rumours, of course. But reading it would be different.  
  
The initial report was bad enough. Potter had been near dead when brought in. "Extensive spell damage including prolonged use of the Cruciatus Curse and banned Potions. Malnutrition. Contusions, lacerations and broken bones throughout his body. Evidence of repeated torture including sexual abuse."  
  
Harry Potter had been captured over a year before that report. Many had presumed he was dead. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had pulled off a successful coup, taking over the Ministry. Most people had given up hope of ever stopping the madman.  
  
Draco had not been in Great Britain during that time. After Dumbledore’s death, Severus Snape had taken Draco to a refuge in France, leaving him there. He never returned, dying not long after. The war had ended suddenly in the spring of 1999. Draco didn't know the details but, somehow, Potter had destroyed Voldemort. The resistance had risen up and defeated his followers. But The Boy Who Lived Again had not recovered. If something didn't change, Potter would most likely spend the rest of his life in a locked room in the Janus Thickey Ward, alongside the other victims like the Longbottoms.  
  
Conventional approaches had obviously failed. Now, as Draco read every single page of the file, he realised he would have to try something different. Problem was that he’d only just returned to England and taken this job. He had finished school at Beauxbatons, then trained as a Healer in France and worked his first position there. It was only after he finally cleared his name that he had been able to return to his home country. He knew that there would be many who would still not trust him. Could he get permission to try unconventional treatment with the Hero of the Wizarding World? Since conventional approaches had failed, and Draco thought Potter himself had never been normal in any sense of that word, he thought it would take a much more personal tactic to help the severely damaged man.  
  
Draco wrote up his own notes, his recommendations and then went to face the staff meeting. By the end of the meeting, he would either have permission to try or, more likely, be fired from his position at St Mungo’s. And he wasn’t even sure which he preferred.  
  
***  
  
Harry was awake and back in his normal spot in the middle of the bed. There was a plate of food left on the table next to the bed as usual, but Harry didn't touch it. He turned his face toward the sunlight coming through the small window in the room. He liked being in a room with a window. It was nice out, a good day for flying. He cringed at the thought and mumbled that he couldn't, turning his head away from the window.  
  
Draco steeled himself and then walked into the room. He took in the untouched food and Potter's state in a glance. "Hello, Potter," he greeted him.  
  
Harry's eyes flickered over to Malfoy, quietly reminding himself that it was the younger one. Draco had given him a tart.  
  
Draco set the food tray aside along with the clipboard he had brought in. He stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to decide how to talk to Potter. He finally pulled up a chair and sat down. Potter’s eyes tracked every move he made.  
  
Harry wondered why Malfoy didn't sit on the bed again today.  
  
Draco leaned forward, elbows on his knees and looked at his own hands for a minute. "They have given me your case, Potter," he said. "I don't know if you understand what that means." He glanced up trying to read the other man's face. Potter blinked and scratched his leg, but otherwise didn't respond, so Draco continued. "Technically, your only living relatives are Muggles, so you have been declared a ward of the Ministry. It means I don't have to have permission from you to treat you," he watched Potter to see how he reacted to that.  
  
Harry looked around the room as he thought about the new piece of information. He thought Malfoy was already trying to treat him, so he didn't see the difference now.  
  
"I want your permission, though, because I want to try something that isn't usually allowed," Draco said.  
  
Harry sniffled and looked back toward Malfoy, his head tilting curiously, silently asking him to go on.  
  
"Instead of coming in to talk to you each day like this, I have recommended I take you on as my only patient and move you out of the hospital," Draco said, and waited for a response.  
  
Harry's face scrunched up at the words, looking very confused. "Move out?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Actually, I was thinking you would prefer to live in your own home," Draco said. "Problem is that I would have to live there as well to continue your treatment."  
  
"Headquarters?" Harry asked, lifting his head up finally.  
  
Draco smiled. "Yes, living at headquarters," he confirmed. "You think I can be trusted?"  
  
Harry shrugged, resting his head on his knees again. "You don't hurt me," he said softly.  
  
"I did, a long time ago," Draco said, wincing as he said it but knowing it wouldn't help to ignore the fact.  
  
Harry tensed, his arms tightening. "Will you hurt me now?”  
  
"No, I won't now," Draco said. "You're willing to try my plan?"  
  
Harry looked at Malfoy for a long moment, eyes squinting as he tried to focus them. Finally, he nodded once, biting his lip and slowly relaxing again.  
  
"When do you want to go?" Draco asked, testing again.  
  
Harry looked back toward the window and pointed. "Sunny," he murmured.  
  
"I know you can understand me, Potter," Draco said. "If you want to go back to headquarters today, we can. If not, I will come back tomorrow."  
  
"Now," Harry said, still looking outside. "Now ....”  
  
Draco stood, picking up his clipboard, and smiled. "I’ll get your paperwork together and then I will take you home," he said.  
  
"Now?" Harry asked, looking back once more at Malfoy.  
  
"Today, if you want," Draco agreed. He paused and pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket, holding them out to Potter. "You'll need these."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at his glasses, looking suspiciously at them. "Don't want to see," he insisted.  
  
"To go home, you will need to take them and wear them," Draco insisted. He waited, attempting to look calm and certain. It was a small thing, but important. It would show if Harry was able to cooperate in his own care.  
  
Frowning, Harry reached a shaking hand toward the glasses but then seemed to falter. He had an image of a pale hand grabbing his wrist and he pulled his own hand back quickly. "No, hurt," he shuddered, rocking again.  
  
Draco was disappointed. "You need to wear your glasses," he said firmly. He didn't know what it was about the glasses that was frightening to Potter. "I need you to take direction from me if I am to take care of you," he explained, setting the glasses in front of Potter on the bed and waiting.  
  
Harry shied back when Draco reached out but then trembled in relief when the man didn't touch him. He snatched up the glasses and, after a bit of fumbling, managed to put them on his face. He peered anxiously through strands of his own hair at the now clearer blond.  
  
"That's good, Potter," Draco said approvingly. "I will get your clothes now. You can't really go out in nothing but hospital pyjamas."  
  
Out? Harry wondered but didn't say anything, studying Draco's face instead. He looked different than he remembered. His hair still white blond, but seemed shiny. And those grey eyes seemed softer. He could see Lucius in the man's features but not in his eyes or his expression. Harry shivered despite the fact that he felt warm.  
  
Draco smiled at Potter. The file said the other man hadn't looked anyone directly in the face since he had last been admitted. This was real progress. "I'll do the paperwork and be back with your clothes when everything is ready," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making progress...


	3. The House of Black

Draco got final approval from Rogers, the paperwork registered, and then returned to Potter holding clothes which he set on the bed. "Do you need help to dress yourself?" he asked.

Harry shook his head and reached for the clothes to pull them closer. He glanced up at Malfoy before pulling off his hospital pyjamas.

Draco turned away, giving the man what privacy he could. It's not like St Mungo’s gave patients in his condition a lot of it.

Harry didn't care if Malfoy saw him or not, already having lost any modesty he once had. Once he was naked he reached for the clothes and began to dress again, glancing back at Malfoy a few times.

Draco waited. He had already gone home and packed a bag, which was shrunk and in his pocket. He was a bit nervous. He was planning to live with a patient and do round the clock care. That was strange enough. But this wasn't just any patient. Their history together was a complex one, to say the least.

The clothes were a bit too big on him, but Harry didn't say anything about it. It felt weird to have actual clothes on after so long. He scratched absently at himself.

Draco glanced back over his shoulder. "You ready?" he asked. Potter nodded but didn't get up, so Draco walked over and held out his hand.

Harry stared at Malfoy's hand for a very long moment, tilting his head to the side and biting down into the nail of his thumb. Finally he seemed to have convinced himself that Malfoy wasn't going to strike him, and he hesitantly moved closer to the edge of the bed, slowly uncurling his hand and reaching out to place it in Malfoy's.

According to the file, Potter had not willingly touched another person since he was admitted. Draco nodded, excited and nervous as he led the man through the halls to a fireplace set up for Floo travel. He picked up the Floo powder and gave the address, holding tight to Potter’s hand as he took them to number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Harry still hated the Floo system, tumbling out of the other side with a groan. He sniffled and scowled, rubbing his nose.

Draco caught the other man before he could fall. He looked around the kitchen, raised his wand and lit the candles in the room. It didn't look like much to him. "Is this your home, Potter?" he asked.

Harry blinked around at the place, remembering how it looked. But it was missing a few things. "Order," he said.

"Show me around, Potter," Draco said. "Can you do that?" Potter chewed his lip, looking about but not replying. "Let's see what's upstairs," Draco said, gently tugging the man in that direction.

Harry pulled his hand out of Malfoy's and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at the staircase. _Where was everybody?_ he wondered.

Draco sighed and looked about the kitchen. "Would you rather I made us some tea, then?"

Harry swallowed and shrugged, slowly sinking down to the stone floor and pulling his knees up to his chest.

Draco rummaged around, looking for a kettle. With a loud crack, a house-elf appeared. Draco drew his wand so fast he nearly hexed the thing.

Harry turned his head and looked at the house-elf for a long moment, slowly beginning to remember. "Kreacher," he mumbled.

Kreacher's gaze shifted between the two men. "Nasty half-blood master has returned but he is with the beautiful pure-blood. Most honoured blood of Black," he grumbled.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "How dare you speak to your master like that," he snapped at the elf.

Harry's gaze shifted down toward the floor, his arms tightening around his legs and beginning to rock. He remembered that about Kreacher. He remembered Dobby was dead.

Kreacher seemed to shrink from Draco's anger. "Make us tea," the blond snapped at the elf and turned back to Potter. Draco crouched down beside the man. "Will you sit at the table with me?"

Harry shook his head, closing his eyes and turning his head away.

Draco sighed and sat down on the stone floor, crossing his legs. "Then I suppose I will just have to have tea with you down here," he said.

Harry looked curiously at him then, silently wondering why Malfoy would want to sit on the cold floor instead of a chair. He couldn't imagine the boy he had known doing that.

Kreacher muttered under his breath, seeming particularly put out when Draco insisted that the tea be served on the floor. The blond poured the tea for both of them. "What do you like in your tea, Potter?" he asked as if it were normal to have tea on the floor.

Harry looked down at the cup and then back up at Malfoy. "Sugar," he whispered.

Draco added the sugar, as well as milk and sugar to his own cup. He held out Potter's cup and saucer to him.

Harry tapped his lip before reaching out to carefully take the saucer from Malfoy. He remembered to mumble a quick “thank you.”

Draco sipped the tea and smiled at Potter. He tried to imagine what his younger self would have made of this scene. It made him smirk. He picked up a biscuit and found it stale.

Harry watched Malfoy take a few sips before he took one of his own, making a small face at how hot it was.

Draco called the house-elf over and gave him instructions as to when they would have dinner. He told him to buy new biscuits and tea. Then he rattled off a list of foods he would like prepared over the next few days. They were all foods he remembered Harry favoured during their days at Hogwarts. The elf muttered but seemed happy to be given orders by Draco. Then Draco turned his attention back to his patient. "Are we going to sleep in the kitchen, too, or will we go upstairs after tea?"

Harry quietly sipped at the tea, finishing it a moment later and setting down the saucer. His stomach felt warm and full, two things he wasn't used to. "Up," he replied to Malfoy's question.

Draco smiled, setting his own cup down and getting to his feet. He held both hands out to Harry.

Harry sniffled and rubbed his nose, reaching out and using only one hand to slowly pull himself up onto his feet.

Draco smiled at him. "Can you make it up the stairs?" he asked, still holding the man's hand.

Harry wasn't too sure of that, but he didn't pull his hand out of Malfoy's, looking down at the floor.

Draco gestured toward the stairs with his other hand. "Show me, Potter," he nudged. Draco loosened his grip but didn't let go of the other man. He didn't know if the hand bothered or comforted Potter, so he let the other man choose whether to continue to hold on.

Harry hesitated before he began to walk up the steps slowly, tugging Malfoy with him.

Draco worried that the man might stumble and made sure to stay close. He kept a hand poised at his back to catch him if needed.

Harry managed to make it all the way up the steps with only one or two stumbles. He stopped at the top of the first landing, though, looking down the hallway of rooms. Harry let his hand slip out of Malfoy's so he could cross his arms over his chest and begin to walk down the hallway, stopping in front of one specific room. He swallowed and reached out to tentatively push the door open.

Draco looked over Potter's shoulder and his eyes widened at what he saw. He cast a spell and the candles in the room lit. "That's ... that's the Black family tree," he said softly, seeing his own name on the tapestry.

Harry walked into the room and over to the tapestry, stepping close and running his finger down a particular burnt part. Where Sirius' name should be, he remembered.

Draco kept close. "Sirius Black, your godfather. This was his house, wasn't it?"

Harry looked up at Malfoy and nodded once, resting his whole hand against the spot.

Draco knew better than to rush Potter. The man seemed more aware than he had been in a long time. "You lost a lot. I know that," he said, looking with his own heart clenching in that odd combination of grief, regret and relief, at the names of his own parents who had died during the war, after he had fled the country.

Harry bit his lip softly, his hand slipping away. He had lost everything. Harry turned and began to walk out of the room, wanting to get away from the memories.

Draco followed him, shaking his head slowly as he glanced back over his shoulder at the tapestry, shivering when his eyes slid over Bellatrix's name. He had his own unpleasant memories he would rather not think about.

Harry walked out and went back to the staircase, waiting for Malfoy before carefully continuing up. He was beginning to get tired, his eyelids heavy. There was still a small part of Harry that didn't want help, that wanted to be left alone, but he knew there was no way that was ever going to happen. He stopped and held his hand out, waiting for Malfoy to take it.

Surprised, Draco took Potter’s hand and helped him up the stairs, having to use his other hand a couple times to keep his patient from falling.

Harry rubbed at his eyes once they reached the top, sighing softly.

"Is one of these your room?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry blinked a few times and nodded, taking a few steps towards the second door on the right. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking around the familiar room. All it was missing was his friends. He had a flash of memory to the first time he had set foot in it. It had been the summer after Cedric died, and Harry had been angry at his friends for not having told him what was going on.

"This is it?" Draco asked. It was cramped and dusty but it was better than a room in St Mungo's. And better than the place Draco had holed up in during the war.

"Yes," Harry whispered quietly, sitting down on one of the beds.

Draco looked at the two beds and the empty portrait on the wall, curious as to what memories the room held. "Who slept in that bed?" he asked, having an idea but trying to prompt Harry to talk.

"Ron," Harry mumbled, untying his shoes before slipping his feet out of them and pulling them on the bed.

Draco went to the wardrobe and looked inside, not surprised to find clothing that looked like something Harry would have worn all those years ago. Muggle clothing, too big for him. He also saw a trunk near the foot of the bed. At least Harry would have some of his own things here.

Harry didn't pay attention to anything else, only laying down on his side and curling up tightly.

"Potter," Draco said, "If you are tired, let's get you into your pyjamas so you can sleep. I can wake you when the elf has dinner ready."

Harry didn't want to change, he just wanted to sleep. He stayed still for a few minutes before he slowly uncurled and began to undress, pulling his clothes off and dropping them on the floor.

Draco opened drawers in the wardrobe until he found pyjamas and pulled out a pair. Gryffindor red. He shook his head, smiling softly as he brought them over to Harry. He nearly froze when he saw the man with his shirt off. The scars. So many of them! He found he had to stop himself from reaching out to touch them.

A small shiver went through Harry's body as he waited for the clothes, his body bare except for a pair of too big shorts. He looked up just in time to see the look on Malfoy's face at the sight of his body, making him quickly look down again, staring at the floor. He had the urge to run and hide somewhere, but curled forward instead, arms wrapping about himself to hide his body.

Draco's gaze softened and he stepped forward, going to one knee so that he was in Potter's sight again. He wanted to apologise for being unprofessional but didn't. He wasn't offended by Potter’s scars. It just made a part of him ache to see evidence of the way the man had been treated.

"Sorry," Harry said softly, reaching for the clothes so he could pull them on and cover what Malfoy must've thought was disgusting.

"You have nothing to apologise for," Draco said. He hesitated, knowing what he was about to say was unprofessional but then remembering that so was living with your patient. "I have my own scars, too. I understand. I shouldn’t have stared at you."

Harry managed to pull the pyjama bottoms up his legs without having to get off of the bed. He didn't look at Malfoy as he spoke, still stuck on thinking that he needed to apologise for showing himself to Malfoy like that. He moved and laid down on his side again, his empty and tired gaze finally landing on Malfoy.

Draco looked sadly at him. This assignment was already affecting him more than it should and they had only just begun. He swallowed hard, holding the other man's gaze.

Harry looked into Malfoy's eyes for a long moment, not moving and barely blinking, only staring. Finally, he closed them and curled up again, too sleepy to force himself to stay awake any longer.

Draco stood up, collecting Potter’s clothes and setting them aside. Then he lifted the blanket and covered him, tucking the man in as if he were a small boy.

Harry shivered and reached to grip the blanket, clinging to it.

Draco patted his shoulder and sighed. "Rest, Potter," he said, "I will be nearby if you need me."

Harry wasn't able to fully rest anymore, but he did eventually drift off into a light sleep, still clutching the blanket in his hand.

Draco cast a Monitoring Charm and then left the room quietly to explore the rest of the house. If he was going to be staying here, he wanted to know the place. The charm would alert him if Potter woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An odd situation...


	4. Untouchable

Draco had managed a pretty thorough investigation of the place when the strange old house-elf found him. "Kreacher is telling you dinner is ready," it said, seeming a little in awe of him. Draco nodded and went to Potter's room, going down to his knees beside the bed again. He didn't like to disturb him if he were sleeping, but meals were very important to Potter regaining his strength. And maintaining a schedule was also important to helping Potter's mind find order as well.

Even in his sleep Harry heard a loose floorboard creak with Malfoy's steps and his eyes snapped open out of habit, much too used to getting punished for being asleep when he was supposed to be awake and ready. His eyes opened widely in fear as he stared up at Malfoy.

"Sorry to have to wake you, but it's time for dinner," Draco said. "Shepherd’s pie," he added hopefully, knowing it was one of Potter's favourites.

Harry continued to stare at him, waiting for a blow or some other show of anger.

"Dining room or kitchen?" Draco asked, wanting to get a response.

When no blow, no anger came, Harry blinked a few times. "Here," Harry said quietly, licking his dry lips and swallowing hard.

"If I let you eat in the bedroom this time, you have to promise to eat at the table with me next time," Draco replied.

Harry seemed to think it over quietly, chewing his lip before he nodded, agreeing.

Draco summoned the house-elf and told it to bring the food on a tray to the bedroom for the two of them.

"My mistress would not like you eating in here," Kreacher reproached and Draco scowled at it again.

"You are impertinent. Do as you are told," Draco snapped. The house-elf moved faster then, bringing the tray back quickly with a pop. Draco Transfigured the bedside table into something a little bigger and pulled up a chair to sit across from Potter.

Only then did Harry start to sit up, making sure that the blanket was still wrapped around him. The smell of the food made him feel almost dizzy with hunger, his stomach grumbling loudly and making Harry flush.

Draco smiled indulgently and cut slices of the pie for Potter and himself, putting a slice on each of their plates. "Shepherd's pie wasn't something my mother would have served, but I know you used to eat it at Hogwarts," he said in what he hoped was a conversational tone. He picked up his fork and took a bite. "Not bad."

Harry started to reach with his fingers and then looked at Malfoy, seeing him using a fork. He picked up his own fork and looked down at his food, trying to remember the last time he had eaten like this. Slowly he began to eat, fork trembling in his unsure fingers. He closed his eyes once he tasted the pie. It was perfect.

Draco smiled happily and ate his food. It felt good to see a look of pleasure on the other man's face. "This place seems big with just the two of us here," Draco continued his solitary banter. "But it must have been quite crowded when the Order used it as headquarters. The Weasleys alone would have made a racket."

Harry set his fork on the plate when he couldn't manage to get anymore down, his stomach fuller than it had been in a long time. Draco's words flooded his mind with images and memories, but they were good ones, leaving him feeling a little sad, but not scared.

"Done?" Draco asked when they had both finished their servings.

Harry nodded, his cheeks still a rosy red, which was a change from the usual paleness.

Draco used his wand to send the tray back to the kitchen and Unspell the bedside table. "Whatever you want to eat, you can have," he said.

Harry wouldn't ask for anything, however, even with Malfoy's promise, only eating what he was given. But he nodded anyway, in case Malfoy was looking for a reply of some sort.

Draco cocked his head, wondering how to negotiate the next part with a man who still barely responded. "I will be staying in this house with you," he said softly. "It's my job to help you and to take care of you while you heal. Do you understand that?"

Harry tilted his head to the side in curiosity, but nodded. Even though he wanted to know exactly what Malfoy meant by "take care of" him, he wasn't sure if he could ask.

"I need to know what you are comfortable with. Do you want me to stay in the next room?" Draco asked.

Harry glanced at the other bed quickly. "Sleep here," he murmured, reaching to fidget with the edge of his shirt.

The blond's eyes followed Harry's gaze. "Are you asking me to share the room, Potter?" he prompted.

"Yes," Harry answered, looking down at his lap and pulling the blanket tighter around him. If Malfoy really wanted to.

"Then that's where I will be," Draco answered, pulling his own luggage out of his pocket and releasing the Shrinking Charms on the bags.

Harry watched curiously, feeling a small ache from not being able to have and use his own wand. He hadn’t seen his own wand since .… He shuddered and pushed the thought away.

Draco set about unpacking his things, including a small pile of books he placed on the stand beside the bed. Once he had his belongings situated he sat down on the second bed and regarded Potter. They were off the map as far as therapy went, so he wasn't sure what he should do now. "Do you want to talk?" he asked.

Harry gave him a look that was clearly asking him _Talk about what?_ , without him saying it.

"Aren't you even curious?" Draco asked. "I mean, you and I haven't seen each other since the end of sixth year."

"Curious about what?" Harry asked, his voice slightly rough from not using it.

"You have no idea where I went or what happened to me. I suppose I thought you might be interested," Draco said, then shrugged. "If not, that's fine. But we aren't following protocol here, so if there are things you want to ask me, you can."

It did interest him. Harry wanted to know what was happening while he was … gone, what he'd missed, but he didn't feel ready to talk about the past just yet. "What ... what did you mean by ... take care of me?"

Draco tilted his head. "Well, having the house-elf here means I won't have to do the cooking or cleaning." He smiled at that. "I am a Mind Healer. I am supposed to help you come to terms with what happened to you. From what I've read, you resisted the spells normally used for such things, so I will be helping you do it with a slower method."

"No matter … how long it takes?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco didn't know the answer to that. He had lived in hiding for two years and didn't want that again. But he wasn't going to give up easily on Potter. There was ... something that haunted him about the man. "They will expect progress," he said, "but I am willing to stay to work with you if you are willing to try to get better."

Harry didn't know if he'd ever get back to how he was before. He wasn't sure if he remembered that Harry. "Can I sleep now?" he asked.

"Of course," Draco said, pulling back Potter's covers and waiting for the man to lie down.

Harry lay down and curled up, looking up at Malfoy and waiting for him to pull the blanket over him. "You too?"

Draco pulled the blanket up and tucked it around the man. "Yes," he said quietly. "Just let me get ready for bed and I will be back." The blond gathered up his toiletries and some pyjamas and went to the bathroom just down the hall. When he was done, he returned to the bedroom.

Harry had closed his eyes for sleep, but, of course, he opened them again when he heard Malfoy walk back inside.

Draco settled into the bed that he had had the elf make up with clean sheets earlier. He smiled softly over at the other man. "Good night, Potter," he said.

Harry clutched the blanket and pulled it tighter around himself, curiously watching Malfoy before closing his eyes. "Night," he said, unable to remember the last time someone really wished him a good night.

Draco put out the candles with a flick of his wand and set it on the bedside table, sighing as he wriggled in the bed, getting comfortable. It had been a long day, so it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

***

Harry wasn't sure what it was that woke him up later on that night, but he couldn't fall back asleep. He sat up slowly and looked around, the moon shining through the window. He noticed then that there was something different about staying here rather than in St Mungo’s. There weren't people watching him through secret windows that he just knew were there, and he could really have time to himself.

He glanced at Malfoy. Maybe not exactly to himself. He quietly slipped out of his bed and padded across the small space between the beds, stopping when he was directly next to the other bed. "Can't fix me," he mumbled, looking down at Malfoy, the moon shining on that pale face. Harry walked to the edge of the bed and climbed on, hesitating for a moment before he straddled Malfoy’s body and moved up so that he was sitting on his hips. He had a better view from here.

Draco woke with a start as he felt the weight settle on him. "What?" he asked, confused and a bit frightened.

Harry didn't reply or move, but he watched, curious about what Malfoy would do.

The blond's heart was racing and he tried to calm down. "Potter? What are you doing?"

"You look different when you sleep," Harry finally mumbled.

Draco had no idea why the man was on top of him but it worried him. There was no record of violence by him at St Mungo’s, but then he had mostly ignored the staff there. "Potter, why are you sitting on me?" he asked, trying to keep his voice gentle.

"I thought." Harry paused, not sure what he was thinking of when he did this, suddenly feeling confused. Maybe he was trying to thank Malfoy somehow .... "You don't like it?" he asked softly.

A very inappropriate image flashed through Draco's mind at that and he shivered with his body's reaction. It had been a long time since .... He clamped that thought down quickly. "Potter, this isn't right," he said. "I am here to help you."

"But, do you?" Harry asked, beginning to shift his hips on purpose.

Draco gasped as Potter's body slid over his growing arousal. "Potter, you need to get off of me now," he said, nearly hissing.

"I ... I can help," Harry said, feeling and hearing the other man's reaction.

"No," Draco insisted. "I can't do this. You need to go back to your own bed."

"I can," Harry whispered, shifting against him. "Anything ....”

Draco reached up and grabbed the man's arms, trying to pull the man off. "Potter!"

Harry went still once he felt Malfoy's hands on him. Malfoy wanted him -- he was sure of it.

Draco shifted, pulling Potter sideways and rolling so the other man lay on his back. Then the blond scrambled backwards off the bed, panting.

Harry closed his eyes, laying where Malfoy put him, expecting him to move back onto the bed and on top of him. When he didn't, Harry opened his eyes and looked over, his mouth moving without sound.

Fighting his own feelings and his shock, Draco tried to calm down. "Potter, you don't have to ... I mean, I am supposed to take care of you, not take advantage of you."

Harry didn't understand. This was what he was, this was how he pleased … them.

After a minute, Draco felt a little calmer. "Potter," he said again, "I need you to go back to your own bed. We can talk about this later."

Harry bit his lip gently, but he moved, crawling out of that bed and slowly getting into his own, turning away from Malfoy.

Draco walked over, preparing to tuck the man back into bed. "You are ... a beautiful man, Potter," he confessed. "But you don't need to throw yourself at me like that for me to take care of you."

Harry looked over his shoulder as Malfoy spoke, wondering if he truly meant what he was saying. He couldn't remember anyone ever describing him as beautiful before. "Take care of me ...” he whispered.

Draco sighed, tucking the blanket around him and then, before he realised what he was doing, gently stroked a strand of hair off Potter's face. "We should cut your hair tomorrow," he said.

Harry flinched at the small show of affection. "Not too short," he murmured.

"We can use a Potion to regrow it after I cut out the damaged parts," Draco assured him.

Harry liked the idea of that. There was a small hint of what could've been a smile, but it was gone with the blink of an eye.

Draco patted the man's shoulder and then went back to the other bed, lying down again. He lay there staring up at the ceiling for a long time.

After a few minutes, Harry turned over to look at Malfoy again, going back to biting his lip gently in thought. He could tell that Malfoy liked what he did ... but then why didn't he want him to finish?

Draco tossed and turned, disturbed by the experience. He was loathe to admit it to himself, but his attraction to Potter might be a problem.

Harry turned back over and closed his eyes, ignoring the sounds of Malfoy in the next bed and forcing himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a problem?


	5. Exposed

Harry hung in the chains, his blood dripping steadily onto the stone floor.

Voldemort picked up the bowl of strawberries and sent it floating over to Lucius, who caught it. The whips shimmered and disappeared. Lucius chose a ripe strawberry from the bowl and held it to Harry's lips.

It was tempting, it really was. Harry swallowed, wetting his dry throat before he leaned forward a little and opened his mouth to accept the fruit. He ate from Lucius' fingers and the man smiled at him. "That's good," Lucius encouraged. Then he stepped over and picked up a goblet of wine, bringing it back over to Harry's lips.

Harry blinked at the goblet warily, not even sure what was in it. It could've been a potion, a poison or just plain water. But he drank from it anyway, making a small face at the strong taste, even though it didn't matter much, because it was finally something to drink. Harry licked his lips, the wine feeling warm in his stomach.

Lucius chuckled again and then set the glass aside before reaching a hand to cup Harry's chin, thumb caressing his lips. The touch sent a warm shiver down Harry's spine. In fact, his entire body felt warm and tingly. Another moment passed and Harry began to pant, the tingles quickly turning pleasurable. "What is happening?" Harry asked, flushing as he felt himself begin to get hard, feeling as though the very air around him was caressing his skin.

That brought a laugh from both men. "You will crave our touch now, Harry," Lucius explained. "It will hurt if you don't get it."

"No," Harry whispered, feeling himself continue to harden. He had never been with anyone sexually, and was horrified by the idea of his first experience being with Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort of all people.

" _Frenum mentulae_ ," Lucius intoned, swirling the tip of his wand and a red line of magic drew itself around the base of Harry's cock and tightened. "You will beg us for release, for even the smallest touch," the man explained.

Harry cried out weakly, feeling hot all over and so, so aroused. Now he wasn't too sure if this was better or worse than the whipping.

Voldemort waved a hand and the chairs turned to face them. Voldemort sat down in one and then opened the front of his robe, exposing his arousal.

Lucius used his wand again to lower Harry so that the chain was now held in his hand. He tugged Harry forward again. "On your knees for your Master," he said.

Harry was absolutely horrified. He tried to back away, despite the way his body was shuddering in a kind of ache that crawled over his skin.

Voldemort smiled and beckoned with his fingers. Against his will, Harry's cock pulsed and his skin seemed to crave something. Harry made an odd noise in the back of his throat, his head falling back as he gasped for air.

"Worship Him, Harry," Lucius told him. "Submit and your pain will ease."

Harry didn't know how he was supposed to go about worshipping Voldemort, but he did know that he didn't want to do it. He shook his head and bore down, trying his best to ignore the sensations going through his body.

Lucius dragged Harry forward and then shoved him to his knees before Voldemort. Harry wanted to resist but found his body felt like a puppet, moving without his consent. Lucius gripped the back of Harry's hair and forced his head down toward Voldemort's shaft. Harry winced and tried to pull away, but he couldn't, tears beginning to well in his eyes again from the pain that had begun to build up along with the pleasure. He looked down at Voldemort's erection but clenched his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. He felt more than heard Lucius move up behind him and then a hand came to rest on Harry's arse. Harry flinched.

"You know what you have to do," Lucius sneered. "And if you do anything that hurts our Master, it will hurt worse than Cruciatus before I am through with you."

Harry bit his lip, beginning to realise what they wanted with him, the very idea making him gag. Harry needed to know if there was some way to stop him. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

Voldemort reached a talon-like hand to grab Harry's chin and force his eyes up to look back at him. His own red eyes focused on Harry's. "You lost, Harry," he reminded him. "Now we can do whatever we want with you."

Harry tried to tug his chin out of Voldemort's grip, the thin fingers and long nails digging into his flesh. "You can't ...."

"But I can and will," the Dark Lord insisted.

Behind him, Lucius shifted and Harry felt his nails bite into the flesh of his arse.

Harry winced and shook his head, struggling against the ache in his body. "No, you can't. I won't," he tried to say firmly, his voice shaking instead.

Voldemort tsked and released him roughly. Lucius shoved Harry with his foot so that the man fell onto his side. "Let that potion work in you a while and see how you feel," he sneered.

***

Draco slept poorly, his dreams making him feel even more on edge after the incident. He woke in the early morning with a start. Draco usually woke aroused and the dreams had only made that more certain. He glanced over and when it looked as if Potter was still asleep, he reached into his pyjama bottoms and quietly began to stroke himself.

Harry was still curled up in his bed, shivering and shuddering even with the blanket, his eyes clenched tightly shut. He was gripping the blanket around him so strongly that his knuckles had gone white. Harry was dreaming again, a nightmare, but there was nothing he could do to get out of it.

Draco's eyes were closed as he pulled on his shaft, gasping a bit.

Tears began to stream out of Harry's eyes as he continued to shake, soaking his pillow. He finally made a soft whimpering sound and shifted, but not much.

Draco came in his hand, making only a small noise as he did. When he heard the whimper from Potter, he quickly pulled his hand out and cast a Cleaning Charm. He rolled out of bed and went to the other man. "Potter?" he whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Harry jerked and cried out, scrambling away as fast as he could and pressing himself against the headboard of the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. His shook with fear, not yet noticing that it was only the younger Malfoy who had touched him.

"Potter, you are safe," Draco said, not trying to touch him again, but not moving away.

Harry covered his face and tried to remind himself of where he was and that he really was safe. It was only after a few minutes that he noticed his pyjama pants were wet and clinging to him uncomfortably. He had wet himself. His face turned red with shame.

Draco gripped the side of the bed, wanting to reach out and hold the man but not knowing if it was the right thing to do. "It’s okay, Potter," he reassured him. "It was a bad dream."

Harry swallowed, unable to look at him in the face just yet. "I want to change," he whispered.

"Certainly," Draco said. "Let's get you a shower and the house-elf can clean the bed while we are having breakfast." He reached a hand out to Potter.

Harry eyed his hand before taking it, shifting over so he could get out of the bed.

Draco helped him. "Do you want to pick out your clothes for today?"

Harry shrugged, not really caring what he wore. He just wanted to get out of these wet pyjamas now.

Draco lifted his wand. "Shall I cast a Cleaning Charm for you?" he asked.

Harry cautiously looked at the wand then back at Malfoy, nodding weakly.

Draco cast the spell and then turned back to the wardrobe, opening drawers. "Pick something, Potter," he said. Getting Potter to make decisions was an important part of getting the man well again.

Harry stepped up beside him and looked in the wardrobe, picking up the first shirt he saw and then a pair of jeans. It was from his older clothing, because he remembered wearing them in his fourth year of Hogwarts.

Draco walked Potter to the bathroom. He leant over, drawing a bath.

Harry quietly sat down on the toilet seat and set his clothes beside him, watching as Malfoy started the bath for him. There was something strange about watching him do it – it reminded him of something, but he couldn't figure it out. Confused, he pushed the feeling away, concentrating on pulling his shirt off. "Are you going to cut my hair now?"

"Yes, that's a good idea," Draco said. He rooted around in the cabinet, looking for a pair of scissors. He found a pair and then began clipping away the tangled mess of black hair.

Harry stayed still for Malfoy, pulling his shirt back down as he idly watched his hair fall to the floor around him.

The man's hair was such a mess that Draco had to cut nearly all of it off. It was extremely short. "Well, I guess I will have to get you that Hair Grow Potion now," he sighed.

Harry felt exposed without the hair covering his face. He reached up to feel how short it was, biting his lip a little harder when there was hardly any there.

"Don't worry. I will send an owl to the Potion Shop after breakfast," the blond said. He turned the taps off. "Do you want me to leave while you bathe?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, something tugging at his memory, and then shook his head no. Standing up, he finished undressing and walked over to the tub, stepping inside and sitting down with a small sigh.

Draco kept his face turned away when Potter stripped and didn't turn back until he was in the tub. He used a Cleaning Spell to remove the hair from the floor and then sat down on the toilet seat to wait for the man to bathe.

Harry reached for the soap and began to scrub it over his skin, finding it easier than he would have thought to ignore Malfoy. At St Mungo's, they used Cleaning Spells, and sometimes showers, but he had never been allowed a bath. He loved baths. That odd feeling returned and he shook it off. He slid down and let his head dip under the water for a moment, just to get it wet and to wash off the soap on his body.

"Feel better?" Draco asked when it seemed the man was finished.

Harry nodded, finally looking at him. He felt better, not completely clean, but better. He stood up and waited for Malfoy to hand him a towel.

Draco averted his eyes quickly, but not before getting a glimpse of a completely naked Potter. He picked up a towel and handed it to him without looking.

Harry took the towel and stepped out of the tub, gently rubbing it over his skin. "You next?" he asked.

"Yes," Draco said, licking his lips nervously. "Do you want me to take you back to the room first?"

Harry tilted his head and shook it. "No."

Draco tested the water and found it was a bit cooler than he liked it. He cast both Purifying and Warming Charms on it and then pulled his top off. Licking his lips nervously, he stripped his pyjama bottoms off and stepped into the tub.

Harry watched his every move, taking a seat on the toilet. He liked watching Malfoy.

Draco would have sworn he could feel the other man's eyes on him and it made him more nervous. He focused on bathing as quickly as he could. "Can you dress yourself, Potter?" he asked the other man.

Harry startled but then reached for the clothes, pulling them on. Not surprisingly, the older clothes fit Harry better than his newer ones, considering he was just about as skinny as he was then, if not more.

Once clean, Draco pulled the plug and stood up in the tub, reaching for a towel. He dried himself and wrapped it about his hips, realising then that he had left his own clothes in the bedroom.

Harry noticed as well, but he didn't say anything, as he followed Draco back to the room.

Draco pulled out his clothes and after a moment of hesitation, removed the towel and began dressing. He almost felt as though Potter's gaze was a physical sensation. Problem was that he wasn't sure if it bothered him or excited him. He sighed and tried to push those thoughts away.

Harry sat down on his bed, carefully avoiding the wet spot in the centre of it. "I did that," he mumbled, referring to the scar he saw on Malfoy's chest just before he pulled his shirt on.

The shirt was halfway buttoned when Draco paused, looking up at him. He fingered the scars that slashed across his chest. "Yes, you remember," he said.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologised quietly, looking down at his lap.

Draco walked over and hesitantly sat down on the bed next to Potter. "I had a lot of time to think about things while I was in hiding," he said. "I never apologised to you. For breaking your nose, and ... for all the other things."

"Me too," Harry said, slowly looking at Malfoy. There was just something about Malfoy now that made Harry want to trust him, even with all the background they had together. He had obviously changed, but then again, so had Harry.

"So, yes, I apologise for everything," Draco said softly, smiling. It was inadequate, of course. But then what wouldn’t be? He finished buttoning his shirt. "Ready for breakfast?"

Harry didn't know what else to say, knowing that this apology was something big. He couldn't have imagined the boy he knew in school doing it. "I'm ready," he whispered, getting up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inadequate indeed.


	6. Obscene

Draco took Potter's arm once more to make sure he was safe on the stairs and they made their way down to the dining room to eat breakfast.

Harry walked slowly into the dining room, glancing around as if he were expecting to see other people. "Where is everyone?" he asked quietly.

Draco took in the long table and imagined for a moment what it might have looked like full of Harry's friends and allies. He shook his head to clear the image. "Who are you expecting?" he asked. He choose a spot at one end, pulling out a chair for Potter and then pouring the tea Kreacher brought in.

"The Order," Harry mumbled, looking down at the table as he spoke, fleeting memories skittering across his mind. He wanted to hide from them. Now he wished he had his hair back; it always made a good curtain.

Harry actually looked strange with so little hair and Draco had the urge to rub that fuzzy head. He focused on putting sugar in Harry's tea and then preparing his own. "Why would they be here?" he asked casually.

"Headquarters," Harry mumbled, sinking down in his chair a little.

Draco settled in next to him sipping his own tea. "You mean the headquarters in the fight against the Dark Lord, right?" Draco questioned, trying to draw Harry into talking about the past.

Harry nodded, shivering at the title. He looked up and pulled his teacup close, not taking a sip yet.

Kreacher brought breakfast and muttered his way back out of the room. Draco dished up eggs and sausage for both of them. "Jam for your toast?" he asked Potter. He was trying to get the man into as normal a routine as he could.

Harry nodded, finally taking a small sip of his tea. "Are they dead?" he asked bluntly. He remembered seeing his friends, Hermione and Ron, a long time ago, but not much after that.

"Some of them, but most of them have just moved on in their lives now that the war is over," Draco said, cutting his sausage and then taking a bite.

"I don't see them," Harry said, reaching for his sausage and picking it up even though it was a little hot.

"Your file shows that they used to visit you, especially Granger, Lupin, and the Weasleys. But you ... didn't respond well when they did," Draco said, watching him to see his reaction to that.

Harry vaguely remembered those meetings. They would just come in and talk about a lot of things that Harry didn't understand, or want to understand, so he never knew what to say. He shrugged and chewed on the sausage.

"Would you like to see some of your friends?" Draco asked.

"If they want to see me," Harry said, finishing the sausage and licking his fingers.

Draco was momentarily distracted as he watched the man lick his fingers. This was ridiculous, he told himself. He was reacting like a teenager with no control over himself. He took a deep breath. "I am sure they will," he said. Then he summoned the elf and had him bring parchment, quill and ink. He wrote a short note and then sent the elf on an errand to a Potion Shop in Diagon Alley.

"I wouldn't want to see myself," Harry whispered, leaning over the plate of food and picking up his toast.

"Because of the way you look? Or does something else bother you?" Draco asked.

"I'm disgusting," Harry said, staring hard at the table top. "A disgusting filthy whore." He said it casually, having heard it so many times that he couldn't help but believe that it was true.

Draco shivered, a cold chill racing down his spine. For a moment, he was so stunned that he didn't know what to say or do. He turned in his chair so that he was fully facing Harry now. "Why would you say that?" he asked as softly as he could.

"It's true ... you're only good for one thing, Potter," Harry mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he repeated the words he heard, his voice becoming like a low hiss that was disturbingly similar to someone else's. "Put that mouth to good use for once, whore."

The mimic of Voldemort's voice brought another shudder to Draco, and a spike of fear and anger so strong he had to hold on to the table for a long minute to get control of himself. He had read the reports, he reminded himself. Harry had been held captive by Voldemort. The knowledge of what the Dark Lord must have done to Harry made the food in Draco's stomach feel like rocks. "Potter," he whispered, trying to get the man's attention. When he didn't turn toward him, Draco reached a hand out and cupped Potter's chin, gently turning his face so he could look into his eyes.

Harry shuddered, the memory of long clawed fingers overwhelming the sensations of Malfoy's gentle touch. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Malfoy, his eyes darker as he hissed softly. "Does that hurt? Yesss ...” Harry began shaking, dropping the toast in his hand.

"You are not what He said," Draco said firmly, anger still in his eyes. "You never were."

Harry closed his eyes again and it was gone, whatever it was that had come over him. "Never get away," he mumbled in his own voice now, opening his eyes and looking at Malfoy, his eyes dull again.

"You got away," Draco insisted. "You killed the monster that did those things to you."

"Can I go to the loo?" Harry asked softly, pulling his chin out of Malfoy's hand.

Draco sighed, pulling his hand back. "Sure, this is your home," he said.

Harry stood up quickly and looked around before leaving the dining room and trying to get to the nearest bathroom before he had yet another accident.

Draco followed him, not sure if it was safe to leave him unattended. He stood outside the door.

Using the bathroom quickly, Harry then turned on the faucet and let the water run. He sniffled and leaned over the sink, feeling the tears burn his eyes before he let them spill, beginning to sob quietly.

Draco leaned against the wall beside the door, listening and not knowing if he should stay there and give the man privacy or knock.

Once the tears started, Harry couldn't get them to stop. He crumpled to the floor after a few minutes, pulling his knees up to his chest and rocking, trying his best to muffle the sounds of his sobs.

Draco couldn't take it any more. He knocked on the door. "Potter, can I come in?"

Harry looked up at the door, but didn't reply, sniffing pitifully.

Draco let out a heavy sigh and then opened the door, looking inside. He saw the man curled up on the floor and then knelt down beside him again. He Summoned a handkerchief and handed it to Potter.

Harry took it and wiped at his face, even as more tears continued to spill out of his eyes. He wished he knew what he wanted and needed in order to get better again.

Draco was on one knee again but settled down to both now, resting his body on his legs. He felt like apologising but he knew that getting Potter to face what had happened was his job.

Harry sniffled and sighed, the tears finally lessening. His arms tightened, and for the first time in a while, he wished he could get a hug.

Draco had a momentary flash that it was ironic that it was Potter crying in the bathroom this time, but he found no delight in the fact. He just hoped he could figure out a way to help. "Potter," he whispered. "I am right here."

Harry looked over at him and bit his lip softly. "Can you I mean, would you hold me?" he asked quietly, his voice barely loud enough to hear. "Please ...?”

Draco swallowed hard. The man was asking him to do what his arms felt like they literally ached to do. He nodded and shifted, leaning forward and putting an arm around Potter's shoulders, his other hand resting on the man's knees.

Harry let go of his knees and shifted closer into Malfoy's arms, letting himself fall against him.

Draco clenched his teeth on the moan that threatened to fall from his lips with the feeling of Potter in his arms. He tried to remind himself he was only offering comfort to a patient. It just felt amazingly good.

Harry sighed deeply, pressing his face against Malfoy's chest and breathing in. It felt so good to finally be held by someone like this who apparently didn't want anything in return.

Draco wrapped both arms around the man, rocking him slightly. "You are safe now," he assured him. "He can never hurt you or anyone else again. You made sure of that."

Harry couldn't remember how, but it didn't matter now. He felt safe. Safe in Draco Malfoy's arms, of all people.

Draco closed his eyes, cheek pressed against the fuzzy hair on Potter's head, and the man relaxed in his arms, curling up against him. After a few minutes, Draco whispered, "Potter?" He drew back when he didn't get a reply and realised the other man was dozing. He was so tempted to kiss the man's forehead he pursed his lips in a frown. "Let's get you off the floor," he said.

Harry woke up when Malfoy shifted, feeling exhausted from the crying and not really wanting to move.

"Come on," Draco said, getting to his knees and pulling the man with him. "You can nap on the sofa in the sitting room if you like."

"With you," Harry murmured, slowly getting up.

Draco turned off the faucet, then led the man back to the sitting room and settled him on the sofa. Kreacher shuffled into the room, holding a paper bag. "Kreacher gots it," he said, bowing to the blond.

Harry had no idea what the elf was talking about. He ignored Kreacher, lying down on the couch and getting comfortable next to Malfoy.

Draco suddenly found Potter's feet pressed against his thighs and he stilled for a minute. Then Draco shrugged and relaxed, taking the bag from the elf and sending it to get him a book from their room.

The sofa was really hard to get comfortable on. Harry sat back up after a few minutes and laid down the other way, this time with his head next to Malfoy's thighs.

Kreacher scowled at Harry when he handed Draco the book he had brought back and Draco had to resist the urge to hex the elf. He sent it away to clean their room.

Despite falling asleep quickly in the bathroom, Harry couldn't do so as easily now, thinking that he was missing something. He lifted his shoulders and moved up a little, slowly resting his head in Malfoy's lap. He waited to see if Malfoy would push him away, bracing himself for it.

Draco shifted his book to the other hand when Potter moved and, for a moment, was at a loss with what to do with his arm on the side near Potter. He laid it back along the sofa. Then he tried to read, tried to ignore the warmth of the man's face pressed against his thigh.

When Malfoy didn't push him away, Harry closed his eyes and relaxed, falling asleep within a few minutes.

***

Harry grunted softly and curled up a little, pressing his cheek against the cold stone floor of the room. He was still burning up, the pleasure almost completely taken over by the pain that accompanied it.

Lucius was leaning over Voldemort's chair, kissing him. Harry watched in horror, feeling disgusted with himself when he felt yet another spike of arousal. After a minute of slick kisses and soft sounds, Lucius drew back and then dropped gracefully to his knees in front of Voldemort. His soft white hair contrasted with the black silk of his gown as he tossed it back out of his way and bent to bring his mouth to the Dark Lord's erection.

Harry closed his eyes, but the image stayed in his mind, a small groan of pleasure escaping him. He wanted to be touched like Lucius was touching Voldemort, but at the same time he was revolted by the idea of who it was. He rocked back and forth on the floor, body shuddering in need.

Harry heard slurping sounds and Voldemort groaned in pleasure. The sounds were obscene – wet sounds from Lucius while he sucked and hummed, and hissing pants coming from Voldemort. Harry rolled over on his side so that his back was facing the pair, but he could still hear every single sound that was made. And he hated the way it was making his entire body ache. Harry curled up as tightly as he could, his cock painfully hard. He didn't even want to look at it, afraid of what colour it would be, instead he looked back over his shoulder at the pair, even with all the sounds and his mind telling him not to.

He saw Lucius' mouth sliding up and down Voldemort's cock, wet and glistening. The Dark Lord's hand resting on the back of the man's blond head. After a minute, Voldemort said, "Now," and Lucius slid himself back up until he was standing. He let the black silk robe slither to the ground until he stood naked, arousal jutting from his lean, pale body.

Lucius Summoned his wand then and cast a charm on himself before turning around, with his back to the Dark Lord. He backed up and Voldemort reached to hold both his hips, spreading his arse. Then Lucius bent his knees, sitting down. Harry saw the Dark Lord angle his cock to press it to Lucius' arse and heard the man gasp as he settled onto it. Lucius began to moan softly as he rotated his hips and Voldemort's fingers guided his movements.

Harry's eyes widened and he couldn't help but stare, never having seen something like this, let alone having it done right in front of him. The worst part was that he felt his entire body shiver at the thought of how good it must feel ... if the look on Lucius' face was any indication. Harry couldn't help the small moan that escaped him as well, swallowing hard and trying to tell himself to look away, but he just couldn't.

Both men looked over at Harry's sound and Voldemort smiled. "Come here, Harry," he told him.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head, but he found himself getting up on his hands and knees, crawling slowly toward Voldemort and Lucius.

Voldemort slid a hand around Lucius' hip and down to run his fingers over the man's arousal. Lucius gasped. "Touch it, whore," Voldemort encouraged. "I know you want to."

"No," Harry whispered, his hands clenching into fists.

"Your skin practically crawls with need by now," Lucius taunted.

It was. It was making Harry tremble with the effort of not just reaching out to touch one of them. "I don't want to," Harry insisted, but he found himself reaching out, hesitantly touching Lucius' thigh. Touching Lucius seemed to ease some of the pain in Harry. Lucius arched his eyebrow at him, wriggling his arse in Voldemort's lap. Harry sighed in relief, his eyes sliding shut as he began to gently rub Lucius' thigh, shuddering.

Lucius reached up and grabbed Harry's hair again, tugging him closer. Harry could tell where this was going again, but he didn't fight it this time, craving anything that would just make the pain stop. Lucius pulled Harry's head forward to his own cock until the glistening head was pressed to the young man's lips and Harry swallowed the last of whatever dignity he had as he opened his mouth, letting Lucius' cock slip inside.

"Yes, suck him, whore," Voldemort encouraged, thrusting up into Lucius at the same time. Lucius' fingers tightened in Harry's hair and he moaned. Harry winced, but he tightened his lips around Lucius and began to suck, the pain receding as he did.

"Yesss," Lucius hissed as he began to fuck Harry's mouth as he also fucked himself on Voldemort's cock.

Harry tried his best to keep up, even when Lucius' cock slipped into his throat a few times, making him cough. The edge of his glasses were digging into the bridge of his nose and he couldn't pull back to catch his breath, not with the other man gripping his hair so tightly. Lucius continued to thrust into Harry's mouth, both he and Voldemort sighing and moaning now.

"Yes, Harry, suck him," the Dark Lord hissed. "That's what you're good for, slut. All you're good for."

Harry's throat and jaw were beginning to hurt him, but at least the pain wasn’t as bad as it was before in the rest of his body. He sucked the best he could. It wasn’t like he had ever done this before.

Lucius growled and Harry's mouth was flooded with his seed as the man bucked in Voldemort's lap. Voldemort hissed and moaned, too. Harry choked but didn't swallow, letting the bitter liquid leak out of the sides of his mouth as he waited for Lucius' grip to loosen so he could pull back.

Lucius sighed, releasing Harry and leaning back against the Dark Lord who wrapped both arms around the blond. Harry pulled back a little reluctantly, afraid that now that he wasn't touching Lucius, the pain would come back. He turned his head to the side and spat out what was in it.

After a few minutes in which the other two men's breathing calmed, Harry felt the pain growing again. His skin seemed to pulse with his cock, which, having had no release of its own, was red and weeping.

Lucius stood up, Summoned his wand again and cast Cleaning Charms on himself and his Master. Then he sauntered over to the table and poured them both glasses of wine. He handed one to his Master and stood beside the chair, leaning on the back and contemplating Harry. "You will beg us, you know," he said casually.

"Beg you for what?" Harry managed to mumble, pulling off his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly from where he sat on the floor.

Lucius laughed. "For anything, for everything."

Harry shook his head and looked down, feeling as though the pain was increasing with every breath he took. "Never," he gasped, slowly falling onto his side, pressing his cheek to the stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do I say after that?


	7. Bad Day

Harry woke up about an hour later, blinking as he opened his eyes and tried to remember whose lap his head was in. He carefully shifted and looked up, only seeing the back of a book.

Draco felt the man shift, head sliding against his thigh and .... He swallowed again and controlled his face. He moved the book and looked down at Harry.

Harry blinked a few more times. The view was different from down here. He found himself oddly fascinated with the way he could look up Draco's nostrils, even there the hair was white-blond.

"Hey," Draco said, smiling, "sleep well?"

Harry nodded and yawned, covering his mouth. He closed his eyes and stretched, his back arching with a small crack.

The movement caused Potter's head to rub against him more and Draco had to clench his teeth to control his reaction, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

Harry relaxed again, watching Malfoy tense up. He didn't know what he had done wrong, but he found himself waiting for a blow.

"Want to get up?" Draco asked, noticing the way the other man flinched.

He didn't really want to, but Harry did, sitting up and moving properly in the seat. He bowed his head and waited, unsure of what would follow.

"I have that potion if you want your hair back," Draco said, gesturing to the bag beside him.

Harry was disoriented for a moment when he realised the other man wasn't angry. He rubbed his hand over the fuzz of his hair and nodded quickly. "Please."

Draco smiled and reached for the bag, removing the potion. "Have you taken this before?"

"No," Harry replied, eyeing the potion. He knew he'd taken a lot of potions before, though, he remembered that. Potions that healed, potions that hurt, potions that changed him. He trembled.

"The more you take the more your hair grows," Draco explained. "Take a sip and then wait to see if it is what you want." He held out the potion.

Harry's hand trembled as he accepted the bottle from Malfoy and opened it, sniffing it and then taking a small sip at first. It took a moment, but then he began to feel his hair growing back. It felt odd but didn't hurt. His hair hadn't grown as long as it was before, so Harry took another sip.

Draco watched that thick black hair lengthen and flow. He had the absurd urge to reach out and touch it. He curled his fingers into his hands. "That's it," he encouraged. "But don't overdo it."

Harry drank the potion until his hair reached his shoulders just like before, but without the tangles and knots that had formed in it from neglect. He sighed and held the bottle out for Malfoy to take, running his other hand through his hair.

Draco took the bottle and set it aside, smiling at the man. Potter looked good with long hair. Draco remembered hair that stuck up and never looked brushed, not this fall of black that shone in the the light from the window.

"Thank you," Harry said softly, feeling almost normal again.

Draco blinked, pulling himself back into his role as caregiver. "If you are going to wear it that long, you are going to have to brush it," he teased.

Harry shrugged, his stomach grumbling. That's when he remembered they didn't get to finish breakfast.

"My job is to teach you and help you learn to take care of yourself again," Draco insisted.

"Want you to," Harry murmured.

"Well, let's go see if that crazy house-elf has our lunch ready," Draco said lightly, standing up and reaching a hand out to Harry.

Harry took it more easily this time, finding it felt like a kind of anchor as he was led to the dining room.

***

The next few days were quiet. Potter often seemed almost normal, if shy and quiet. At those moments, if Draco hadn't known the man before, he might not have known that there was a problem. But Potter had other times when he whimpered and rocked like a sad small child or stared off vacantly at nothing. He slept a lot, too, but never very well, often woken by nightmares. Draco was getting used to being woken by the cries. Harry had had a bad night and was being unresponsive this morning. Draco helped pull him out of the bed and led him to the bathroom for their morning routine.

Harry sat down on the toilet seat when Draco led him inside, staring at the wall across from him as he began chewing on his thumbnail.

Draco sighed. "You need to brush your hair and teeth, Potter," he insisted.

Harry ignored him and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping one arm around them. Right now he just wanted to be left alone.

Draco picked up the brush and held it out to the other man. "Start with your hair."

Harry shook his head once, still biting away at his nail. Sometimes his nails bled but he didn't care. He glanced at the brush for a moment before shaking his head again.

Draco took a deep breath and then sighed. "Potter, I had to cut your hair off because it got matted. If you want to keep your hair, you need to brush it."

Harry made a face and then reached to grip his hair with one hand, pulling on it hard. He didn't wince as some of the strands were pulled out, he only dropped them on the floor and reached for more.

Draco reached out with his other hand and took Harry's. "No hurting yourself," he said, firmly but gently.

Harry whined and tried to pull his hand away while reaching with the other to continue to pull out his hair.

Draco tossed the brush into the sink and took Harry's other hand too. "Shhh, calm down. Shhh."

Harry shook his head and kept on trying to pull his hands away, but he was too weak to really do it. "Leave me alone," he whined, beginning to cry.

"I will let go if you don't hurt yourself," Draco answered.

Harry struggled until he wore himself out. Only then did he stop, his shoulders sagging. "Let go," he whimpered quietly.

Draco released his hands, but stood ready to intervene again.

Harry wrapped his arms around his knees again and started to rock himself, shoving back as far as he could on the seat.

Draco took the brush from the sink and set it down on the shelf above it. He picked up Potter's toothbrush and dipped it in cleaning powder . "Will you brush your teeth or should I help you with it?"

Harry wiped at his eyes before resting his forehead on his knees, trying to curl up. Why wouldn't he just leave him alone?

Draco sighed again and reached for Harry's chin, tipping his head up to look at his face. "Your breath stinks," he told him.

Harry didn't care. He shook his head and tried to turn it away, making another uncomfortable sound.

Draco set the toothbrush down and then picked up his own brush, finishing his own hair first. Then he took up Potter's and began trying to brush the other man's hair.

Harry pressed his face against his knees again, but didn't struggle away again.

Draco began to slowly work on getting the latest tangles out of the thick dark hair. Harry's hair seemed as perpetually tangled now as it had in school. He tried not to hurt the other man, but it was difficult not to.

Harry made a sound every time Draco brushed his hair too hard, tangled strands catching painfully. He started to chew on his lip to distract himself, wanting this to be over with now.

Draco was both worried and annoyed at having to do this for Potter. Annoyed as much by his own reaction to touching the other man's hair. It felt intimate to be doing this for him. "That should work today, but unless you want me to cut your hair short again, you will need to do this yourself in the future."

Harry didn't show that he heard Draco when he spoke. All he could think was that he didn't know why brushing his hair was such a big thing. He had gone for so long without doing it that it just didn't matter anymore.

"You're just having a bad day, Potter," Draco assured him, gently tucking the man's hair off his face. "Come on. Let's get you something to eat." he reached to take Potter's hand.

Harry slowly looked up, staring at Draco for a long moment before he looked around and spotted the toothbrush. He reached for it and stuck it in his mouth, remembering Draco's earlier comment.

"Very good," Draco encouraged, some of his frustration easing.

Harry reached to slowly brush his teeth, making a small face at the taste, but doing it nonetheless. He got up and leaned over to spit in the sink when he was done.

Draco smiled. "That's better," he told Potter. Harry was still having days where he was barely functional, but sometimes, like now, he seemed to improve with Draco's persistence.

"Food, please," Harry murmured, looking down with a small sigh. He supposed he liked it when Draco told him he did something good.

"Yes, let's get dressed and go down to breakfast," Draco told him, leading the way to the bedroom to change from the pyjamas they were wearing.

Harry walked into the room and went for his bed, climbing up onto it as he waited for Draco to pull the clothes out.

Draco didn't try to push Harry to choose his clothes today, but lay a set beside him on the bed before turning to change into his own. He wondered if breakfast would be a struggle as well. Sometimes Potter would drop or throw things when he got bad.

Harry pulled off his shirt and then stood up to take off the pyjama bottoms, reaching for the other clothes to put them on.

Draco dressed and waited for Potter to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to be easy.


	8. Worthless

Harry woke up only an hour or so after falling asleep. He turned and looked at Malfoy, his face in the moonlight again. It was much like the first night here. He slipped out of his own bed and walked over to Draco's bed, standing there and looking down at him. It didn't work out so well the first time, but maybe he'd do better now. First he started with his own shirt, pulling it off and dropping it on his bed. Then Harry pushed down his own pyjama bottoms. Naked, he moved onto Malfoy's bed, pulling down the other man's blanket before moving up his body. He straddled him, sitting down on Malfoy's hips.

Draco had been tired and was sleeping pretty soundly. His dream, like many of them lately, was erotic and he squirmed.

Harry shifted, beginning to move his hips in a circle, already feeling that insistent hardness in Malfoy's pyjamas.

Draco moaned, arching into the body on top of him. In his dream, he was fucking Potter – doing those things he couldn't ethically do as a Healer.

Harry rocked harder, taking Malfoy's moans as encouragement to go on. He reached beneath himself to pull Malfoy's pyjama bottoms down so that his cock was exposed. He sat back down again, biting his lip at the memory of the last time he did this. He had to do it, had to thank Malfoy in some way for doing so much for him. Malfoy said he didn't want it, but his body showed Harry something different.

Draco gasped at the feel of soft firm flesh against his shaft. He shuddered and then realised it was too real, too good. He opened his eyes and saw a very naked man sitting atop him. "Harry?" he asked, voice sounding strangled.

"You like it," Harry said, sounding out of breath, but wriggling his hips harder.

Draco's cock was pressed between the cheeks of the other man's arse as he rocked against him. It felt glorious and made him groan again. "Harry, this is wrong," he gasped.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on making Malfoy come, clenching his cheeks together a few times.

Draco reached up, really intending to pull the man off of him, but then he felt himself shaking, fingers clutching Harry's thighs as he came, coating the man's arsecheeks in his seed.

Harry shuddered and went still, feeling accomplished. "See, you liked it," he whispered.

Draco closed his eyes and moaned. He should excuse himself from this case. But that would mean taking Harry back to St Mungo’s, probably to spend the rest of his life locked away. "Potter," he said, forcing himself to look up at him. "I need you to get up, please."

Harry did get up then, moving to pull Malfoy's pyjamas up before heading back to his own bed to lie down.

Draco grabbed the man's wrist, stopping him. "Stop and stand right there," he said, picking up his wand and cast _Lavare_ to clean both of them. Then he pulled his own pyjama bottoms the rest of the way up.

Harry looked down at his wrist then slowly up at Malfoy, staying still.

Draco released him. "Get your pyjamas back on and then we need to talk," he said.

At the direct order, Harry felt he had no choice but to obey, reaching to pull his clothes back on.

Draco used his wand to light the candles in the room and then gestured to a place beside him on the bed. "Sit down, Potter," he said, sighing.

Harry sat down next to Malfoy, knowing that he had done something wrong just from the sound of Malfoy’s voice. He began to tremble with fear.

Draco turned to face him. "So, I need to understand this," he said. "Can you tell me why you did that?"

"Because ... I wanted to thank you for helping me," Harry replied softly, looking down at his lap.

"You didn't come ...” Draco said, shivering again. "It didn't bring you any pleasure, did it?"

"Sometimes it does," Harry admitted quietly. If that was what Malfoy wanted to hear, he would tell him he liked it.

"You don't need to do that to thank me, Potter," Draco said. "It's my job to take care of you. I am not supposed to have sex with a patient." It was difficult not to feel shame at how much he had wanted to touch Potter, how much he had actually enjoyed it. Draco forced himself to focus on Potter instead.

“But I want to,” Harry mumbled, trying to convince himself of that as well. “And no one else has to know.”

"I would know," Draco said. "Potter, look at me."

Harry looked up at him, unable to meet his eyes and swallowing a few times. “Sorry,” he whispered.

"I am not angry with you," Draco soothed, heart clenching at the look of misery on the other man's face. "I want you to tell me why you think that having sex with me is the way to thank me."

“Because it’s all I’m good for,” Harry whispered, looking away again.

"You think that the only thing you have to offer is sex," Draco said. "Who told you that?" Draco knew the answer to that but he had to get Potter to say it, to confront it.

“They all did,” Harry said softly, wrapping his arms around himself and beginning to rock. He did not want to talk about anything anymore.

"Death Eaters believed that all Muggle-borns should die, were they right?" Draco asked him.

Harry shook his head no, wanting this to stop. He couldn't think about it. It was going to make him remember, make the nightmares come for him.

"Harry," Draco said softly, reaching to lay his palm against Potter's cheek, forcing him to focus through touch. "They were wrong. They were wrong, I was wrong, about Muggles and Muggle-borns. And they were wrong to say and do the things they did to you."

Harry made a small noise and closed his eyes, shaking his head and pulling away from the blond. He wanted to believe, he did ... but he was a whore. A stupid worthless whore.

"Sex can be ... great, Potter," Draco said. "But I don't think you actually know that. I think you are doing it because you think you have to."

Harry bit his lip softly, thinking about Malfoy’s words. Sex for Harry was associated with pain and sometimes a little pleasure during the pain. But he didn’t know if he’d ever call it good, let alone 'great'.

"Did you ever have sex before you were ... captured?" Draco asked, letting go of Potter's face, but watching him.

Harry shook his head no, moving his legs up onto the bed so he could pull them closer to his chest, biting his lip as he rocked now.

"So you never even played around before ... they did things to you?" the blond asked, hating to press the topic but wanting to get Harry talking.

Harry shook his head again, shaking now. “No,” he whispered.

Draco had a moment where he felt guilty about that, as if he himself could have done something to have prevented it. He tried to remind himself that he had been only a teenager at the time. That he could not have helped even if he hadn't been in hiding. That the Dark Lord would have made him pay for his failure, probably in the same way he had hurt Harry. He had to swallow hard on the bile that rose at the very idea of it. "You didn't deserve any of the bad things that happened to you," he said.

Harry rested his forehead on his knees, his hair forming a curtain around his face. He had heard those words before. But there was always one part that he couldn’t help but bring up. “But it happened,” Harry mumbled, shuddering. “It happened, it happened ....”

Draco shook his head sadly, laying a hand gently on the man's shoulder. "Yes, it happened, and you survived. You did more than survive," he whispered. "But now you have to figure out what you want from that."

Harry couldn’t figure out what he wanted from what happened to him. The only thing that sounded possible was him wanting to forget it all ever happened.

"You deserve a life, a life with some happiness in it," Draco told him. And Draco was surprised to realise how strongly he believed that, how important it was to him that Potter get that happiness.

Harry couldn't have happiness. He didn't deserve it. He was a disgusting whore. He continued rocking and shaking his head.

"Harry, if you could have whatever you wanted, what would it be?" Draco asked softly.

Harry got up and went over to his own bed, climbing into it and curling on up on his side. He looked at Malfoy after a few minutes, whispering a few words underneath his breath. If he leaned in close enough, Malfoy could hear something that sounded like "love".

Draco watched Harry retreat, not knowing if it was right to follow him or remain on his own bed. He did follow him, though, getting up and tucking the blankets around the other man. He didn't know if he had heard him right, but he smoothed back Harry's hair.

Harry closed his eyes and quieted down, but couldn't fall asleep. His mind was too worked up, images and thoughts floating through it and making him snap open his eyes once again.

Draco had gone back to bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. He felt out of his depth. What he was feeling had nothing to do with what he was trained to do. He wanted to wrap his arms around Harry, hold him and never let go.

Harry continued to stare blankly at the world around him, his eyes feeling heavy, but he wasn't granted any sleep. When his eyes closed, Harry could see the images of the people who made his life hell for him while he was captured. With them open, he thought about them to the point where he thought he was back in the dungeon. "I want to sleep," Harry begged softly, speaking to anyone who would listen. "No," a voice would reply and Harry had no choice but to go on, forcing his eyes to stay open.

"Harry?" Draco asked from his place in the other bed.

Harry didn't reply, his eyes watering and tears spilling down his cheeks.. He gripped at his sheet and made a frustrated sound.

Draco rolled out of bed again with a sigh and knelt by Potter. He reached out and took the other man's hand in his.

It was as if Harry were blind to the world he was in, only seeing the dark stone wall of his prison. His hand was limp in Malfoy's as he fought the sleep, blinking away the tears in his eyes.

Draco squeezed Potter's hand. "Harry, I'm here, beside you," he said quietly but firmly. "Can you hear me?"

Harry could only hear muffled voices, his hand merely twitching in Malfoy's. "I'll be good," he whimpered, biting his lip hard enough to pierce the skin.

Draco's training was to use a spell and stop a patient from injuring himself. Those spells has been used a lot on Harry and his episodes just kept happening. Draco kept a hold of Harry's hand as he stood up and then sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped Harry's face with his other hand. "Harry," he whispered again.

Harry remained unresponsive for the next few minutes, staring off as his lip began to bleed. And then finally he blinked, looking around before his eyes focused on Malfoy. "Can I sleep?" he asked fearfully, sucking his lip into his mouth, licking at the blood.

"Where were you?" Draco whispered, the terrible pain in Potter's green eyes was hurtful just to see.

"I don't remember," Harry replied quietly, his eyelids drooping.

"You are having trouble sleeping," Draco said. "If I sit beside you, will it help?"

Harry hesitated before he nodded, remembering the last time he did that.

Draco released Harry's face but continued to hold his hand. "Sleep well, Harry," he said.

Harry slowly closed his eyes and found himself drifting off to sleep much faster than he did before. He could only hope he didn't have any nightmares this time.

Draco waited until Potter's breathing had evened out. He sat there watching him for a while but wondered if Potter would sleep better if he was nearby. Finally, Draco settled on the floor, resting his arms on the bed and his head on his arms. He fell asleep still holding Potter's hand.

***

Harry woke up with a start, quickly turning his head and looking at Malfoy, who was still holding his hand and sleeping. Harry's heart was beating wildly as he struggled to relax against the bed, not remembering what he was dreaming about that made him feel so scared. He felt Malfoy's hand in his tighten reflexively, the blond sighing in his sleep. Harry swallowed, looking down at his hand in Malfoy's. Malfoy's hand was bigger than Harry's, but it was warm and soft, and Harry couldn't remember the last time someone held his hand like this. And ... Harry liked it. A lot. It made him feel warm and ... safe.

Draco blinked, waking up. His body was stiff from falling asleep sitting on the floor. But his hand in Potter's felt comfortable. He looked up and his eyes met those green ones where the other man lay contemplating him. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," Harry whispered in reply, not sure of what else to say.

"You sleep better?" Draco asked, thumb gently caressing Potter's hand.

Harry nodded, looking down at their hands again. "You slept there?"

Draco shrugged but nodded. "Thought you might sleep better," he said, shifting slightly to ease the ache in his legs.

"Thank you," Harry said softly, fighting the urge to want to do something sexual again to thank him.

"It's fine," Draco said, not sure if he should get up now. It felt so peaceful sitting here like this and it seemed to have helped Potter who looked to be more aware.

Harry was amazed at how good it felt not to be woken up by a really bad dream and the wetness of an accident that usually came along with them. If he had known sleeping with Malfoy holding his hand worked, he would've asked for him to do it ages ago. Well, maybe he wouldn't have asked, but he would have wanted to.

"You hungry?" Draco asked, squeezing Potter's hand before moving to get up, his legs tingling a bit painfully as blood flow returned to them.

"A little," Harry admitted softly, clinging to Malfoy's hand before he let go and sighed.

Draco stood and then held out the hand again to help Harry up. "Come on," he said.

Harry gratefully took it and pulled himself up, slipping out of the bed. "Bathroom first ....”

"Yes," Draco agreed. He was glad that Potter seemed more lucid this morning, even leading the way to the bathroom for their morning routine.

Harry walked into the bathroom and immediately went for the toilet, using it without any modesty.

Draco averted his gaze, and reached for a flannel to wash his own face.

When he was done, Harry put the lid down and sat on the seat, pulling his knees up to his chest like he always did. This time he watched Draco, waiting for him to give him something.

Draco sighed. Potter still didn't initiate his own self-care. The blond picked up his own brush and with his other hand held out Potter's to him. "Time to brush your hair," he told him.

Harry looked at the brush before grasping it. He held it up to start brushing his hair. It was hard to do still, and he scowled, beginning to get frustrated as he went on.

Draco brushed his own hair too, watching Potter as he struggled with the latest knots in those dark strands. "Gently, and it will go better," he told him.

But Harry wanted to do it like Draco did it, and it just wasn't working. He huffed and shook his head, throwing the brush away from him before he reached to grip his hair again.

"Stop," Draco said firmly. "No hurting yourself." He bent to retrieve the brush.

"I can't do it," Harry whined, sniffling as he pulled at his hair.

"How did you take care of your hair before?" Draco asked, reaching to gently take Harry's hand.

"I don't know," Harry mumbled, frowning and trying to pull his hand away from Malfoy.

Draco's grip on Harry's hand was firm, fingers curling around the other man's. "Shh, don't fight me," he admonished. "Either we have to take care of your hair or cut it. Which do you choose?"

"I don't wanna cut it," Harry said, shaking his head and trembling now.

"So that means you have to learn to brush it," Draco responded. "Your hair was messy in school but wasn't matted in knots, so you must have at least brushed it then."

Harry stopped struggling as he tried to remember, but it was more than a distant memory now. He wanted to remember, though, he really did.

Draco's thumb gently soothed the back of Potter's hand. He thought he understood what this was really about. "It's okay to take care of yourself. You don't need to punish yourself any more."

Harry shook his head, looking up at Draco for a long moment. "Can you ... help me?" he asked quietly.

Draco smiled. "Sure, it's okay to ask for help. Let's brush our teeth and then go back to the room to brush your hair there, that way I can sit down too."

Harry nodded slightly and turned to get his toothbrush, wetting it before dipping it in the powder like he had seen Draco do so many times.

They brushed their teeth. Draco used the toilet too, trying not to notice the way Potter watched. When he was done, Draco picked up Harry's brush and led him back to the room, sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside him.

Harry obediently sat down next Draco and turned a little, looking down so Draco could start brushing his hair.

First Draco cast a Detangle Spell to make it a bit easier. Then he began at the ends and worked his way up, using his free hand to hold the hair so it didn't pull Harry's scalp as hard. There were still moments where it pulled painfully and the other man whimpered, but Draco was as gentle as he could be.

Harry closed his eyes and actually stayed calm as Draco continued, even though he couldn't help the occasional sound when Draco pulled too hard.

"When your hair is brushed, it is soft and shiny," Draco whispered. "I like it that way."

"Why?" Harry quietly asked when he heard that, blinking in confusion.

"It looks good," Draco admitted, working until the brush slid through Harry's hair without catching. "That feels better now, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Harry whispered, finding that he liked it a lot. Even more, he liked the idea that Malfoy liked it this way. "I like it a lot ...."

Draco realised he was brushing Harry's hair now just because he didn't want to stop, because he liked touching him. He made himself set the brush down. "There," he said softly. "Time to get dressed."

Harry looked up at Draco when he stopped brushing his hair, the confused look still on his face. He just didn't understand how anyone could find him attractive after everything he had gone through. Use him, yes, but not like the look of him. He shook his head and moved to get up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter today...


	9. Unwelcome Gratitude

"I was thinking we could go out sometime if you like," Draco said over breakfast. He had been thinking about it. Potter hadn't really been outside since before the war, first with his captivity and then St Mungo's. Maybe it would help him feel more like himself.

"Outside?" Harry asked, taking a small bite of his toast. Harry thought about sunlight and the smell of the air, which brought back memories of flying – wind whipping past him, sun on his face and the feeling of freedom.

"That's the idea," Draco said, sipping his tea and watching Potter carefully. He liked the look that came into those green eyes then.

Harry looked down at his plate, pushing around his food and taking a few small bites here or there. "I'd like that ...” he finally whispered. Part of him was afraid it wouldn't happen, that this was some kind of trick or that someone would come after him if he were out in the open.

"Any idea where you would like to go?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head, looking down again. Flashes of memories fluttered through his mind – Hagrid taking him to Diagon Alley, the first time he flew at Hogwarts, butterbeer and friends in Hogsmeade. He shrugged.

"Maybe a treat at Honeydukes? Or a visit to the Quidditch store?" Draco suggested.

Harry's head snapped up at the mention of Quidditch. "Yeah ....”

"Quidditch store, then," Draco smiled, nodding his head.

"When?" Harry asked, pushing his plate of food away, suddenly too excited to eat.

"Whenever you want," Draco replied, smiling. "But you should eat first."

"I'm full," Harry insisted, chin raised and a hopeful look on his face.

Draco wondered if Harry was really ready for this but it was nice to see him excited about something. "You want to go today or another day?"

"Today?" Harry asked hopefully, biting his lip softly.

"Sure," Draco said, smiling at him. "You realise you still have your account at Gringotts? You could buy a broom if you wanted."

"A broom," Harry repeated, mostly to himself. He remembered his Firebolt, but didn't know where it was, or if he even still had it at all. "Maybe.”

"We might fly sometime when you are stronger," Draco suggested.

Harry liked the idea of that. "One day," he said softly, thoughts wandering to memories of flying again.

"Yes, something to look forward to," Draco confirmed.

***

Draco Apparated them to the entrance of Diagon Alley. Now they stood before the wall, ready to tap the bricks. "You ready?" Draco asked softly.

Harry looked up at the seemingly normal wall, staring at it for a long moment, memories stirring again. When he glanced over, he was almost surprised to find Malfoy, not Hagrid, standing beside him. He blinked before he slowly nodded to the blond.

"Stick close to me, Harry," Draco said, lifting his wand and tapping it. The bricks rearranged themselves and they looked through the opening at the cobbled street before them. Draco himself hadn't been to Diagon Alley since before the war. He felt the nostalgia, and his own memory flashed back to that first memory of a scruffy dark-haired boy in Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. He glanced beside him at Harry, smiling before stepping through the opening.

Harry did stay close, only moving when Malfoy did. He tried to keep his head down, but it was hard to with so much to see again.

"You're safe," Draco assured him. "I will protect you."

Malfoy's words calmed Harry down, but he made sure to stay close still, reaching out and gripping Malfoy's robe.

Draco felt it somehow wrong that he enjoyed it when Harry touched him. "So do you want to get money from Gringotts to buy things or just look at things?" he asked the man.

Harry wanted to do both, but he guessed it would be better to have money first. "Gringotts," he replied, looking at the big building. There were people walking around them and, thankfully, no one seemed to notice who he was.

Draco led the way to Gringotts and he told the goblin they were there for Harry's account. The goblin looked surprised and seemed to be sceptical as he looked at Harry.

Harry didn't know what else he could've done to convince the goblin of who he was. Draco had to insist, reassuring them of his identity. Once that was done the goblin finally took them to Harry's vault. Harry didn't take too many Galleons, just a handful in a pouch that he pushed deep into his pocket.

Draco enjoyed the wild journey to the vault with Harry, thinking the ride was fun. He was surprised that Potter had as much money as he did. It wasn't near what the Malfoy fortune had been, but then the Malfoy fortune wasn't what it had been, either. He had had to pay reparations on his family's behalf to ensure his own readmission to the country. Luckily, the family was old enough – and his father Slytherin – that there had been assets available in France and a few other secret accounts on the continent.

Harry noticed that Malfoy didn't withdraw any money but didn't worry about it. He followed eagerly as they headed to the Quidditch shop. Harry stepped up close to the front window, his eyes wide as he took in the newest broom on display. Apparently it was faster than the Firebolt. Harry wasn't too sure if he could believe that, but the only way to know that would be to buy the broom. There were a bunch of young kids around looking into the shop as well, and even a few older ones. He glanced briefly at them, just a moment, and he saw one of the older boys' eyebrows raise in surprise. All he could do was tighten his grip on Malfoy's robes and hope he hadn't been noticed finally.

"Let's go in," Draco said, putting a hand over Harry's to comfort him as they stepped inside. The smell of the shop – the smell of Quidditch leathers and broom oil – was enough to bring back memories for Draco. He hadn't played Quidditch since Hogwarts, refusing to join his House team in France.

Images flickered again in Harry's mind and he trembled, remembering his own hand outstretched for a Snitch, Malfoy on the broom beside him, close and eager for the same prize. Harry blinked and glanced at the blond. Harry wandered back over near the broom displayed in the window, listening to the shop owner talk about it to another customer. He wanted to ask about the original Firebolt, but that would've meant walking up to the man. He hung back.

The other customer decided to think about it and the shopkeeper looked up to see Harry and Draco. His eyes widened a bit at Harry, but he smiled. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

Harry quickly looked up at Malfoy, biting down on his lip when it didn't look like he was going to say anything. "Oh ... is it better than the Firebolt?" he asked quietly, glancing briefly at the owner before looking down.

Draco laid a hand in the small of Harry's back, a kind of gentle pressure to show that he was there, but didn't speak. He wanted to see how Potter handled his first interaction with anyone else in so long.

The shopkeeper's smile broadened and he launched into a very enthusiastic description of the ways in which this broom was better than any ever produced before. He gestured for them to come forward in order for them to get a better look at it.

Harry hesitated before he stepped closer, looking over at the broom. After a few more minutes of the shopkeeper speaking about it he paused, giving Harry a moment to think. "Can I get a Firebolt instead?" Harry asked cautiously, not wanting to anger the man by not wanting the other broom.

The shopkeeper looked disappointed but seemed to cover it up quickly. "We have some of the older models," he said, pointing toward to the display of other brooms.

Harry looked toward where he pointed before looking back at him. "I just want the Firebolt, please," he said softly, not even bothering to go look at the others. The man nodded and went to retrieve the broom.

Draco kept his hand at Harry's back as they went to the counter to make the purchase. He thought about what the Firebolt must represent to Harry, the memories it held. The knowledge gave him ideas of other ways to help Harry as well. He would have to test the theory later.

"I did okay?" Harry asked, looking up at Malfoy as he pulled open the pouch that held his Galleons.

"You are doing fine," Draco told him, rubbing his thumb against Harry's spine through the fabric of his robe. "I suppose I will have to find my old broom," he teased.

There was a small hint of a smile on Harry's face, but it was gone before anyone could really see it. "I guess you will," he said, looking back toward the shopkeeper who returned with the broom in a box.

When the shopkeeper had taken the coins and was returning the change, he looked Harry directly in the eyes. "Thank you, Mr Potter. For everything," he said.

Harry could tell that there was more to that statement than he would've liked to hear, but he managed to keep eye contact with the man for a few moments. "You're ... welcome," he said, pocketing his change and looking down at the box. His stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the man's gratitude.

Draco picked up the Firebolt and helped steer Harry from the shop. A couple of people looked like they would approach them but he gave them a glare and they backed off. "Where to now?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," Harry replied, not paying attention to the people. The encounter had put him off and he didn't know what to do about it. "He thanked me.”

"Yes, he did," Draco said quietly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Why did he?" Harry muttered, coming to a stop and turning to face Malfoy.

Draco cocked his head, looking in surprise at Harry. "You defeated the monster, saved our world from His regime," he said as calmly as he could. And Potter had paid such a high price that the wizarding world owed him more than was ever possible to repay.

"I can't remember," Harry whispered, closing his eyes and turning slightly away.

Draco's eyebrows rose, but then he controlled himself better. "When you are ready to, you will," he said, patting Harry's back again.

"And if I'm never ready?" Harry asked, beginning to walk without even watching where he was going.

"All that matters is that we find a way to help you live a life that you are happy with," Draco assured him, the hand on Potter's elbow steering him and steadying him when he might have tripped.

Harry blinked up at Malfoy. "Do you want to go somewhere?"

"Fancy some ice cream?" Draco asked. Draco loved sweets. He had been notorious for it among his friends.

Harry thought about it for a minute. "Okay," he replied, looking around for the shop.

Draco escorted Harry to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, which, despite having been damaged in the war, had been rebuilt and reopened. They stood contemplating the flavour choices.

Harry was a little overwhelmed at the amount of choices, deciding to just go with whatever Malfoy chose. "You pick," he said.

Draco picked a caramel and vanilla for himself and a chocolate for Potter. He held up both just in case, figuring he would enjoy either himself. He also thought that even if Potter were overwhelmed by the array of choice, it was still good to get him used to making decisions again, even if from only two options.

Harry took the chocolate cone, turned around and looked for a table, heading for one near the back. But before he could reach it, a group of at least five people stepped up in front of him and began patting him on the shoulders, thanking him loudly. That caused the entire place to look around, and soon everyone was getting up, trying to rush over to see Harry.

Harry, in the meantime, went completely still with a gasp, stepping back and shaking his head. There were too many people. "No, no ....” he began to chant, head down and trembling.

Draco shoved his way through the crowd, his own ice cream forgotten on the counter. "Back off," he shouted.

Harry whimpered softly and continued to back away. He dropped the ice cream, covering his ears with both hands.

Draco stepped up beside Harry and turned the man to face him, wrapping arms about him protectively. "I am right here, Harry," he assured him, glaring at the crowd who backed off with wide eyes.

Harry reached out to grip Draco's robes with both hands, pressing his face against the other man's chest. "Wanna go," he mumbled.

"Sure, Harry," Draco soothed, pulling the man back to the counter with him. He collected the other cone and handed it to Potter. Then Draco grabbed the package with the Firebolt. With his other hand on Harry's elbow, he led him out of the shop and Apparated them back to the front of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new broom and ice cream!


	10. Improper

"We're back," Draco said soothingly as he led Potter back into his home, breathing his own sigh of relief as well. He set the box with the Firebolt on a side table and led Potter into the sitting room.

Harry didn't relax yet, still clinging to Malfoy even as they walked inside. He was holding the remaining ice cream cone in his other hand and it was making it go slightly numb from the coldness, but he didn't notice or care.

Draco settled Potter in an armchair and then knelt in front of him. "You going to eat that?" he asked, looking at the ice cream melting down the man's hand.

Harry lifted his hand and began to lick at the caramel and vanilla ice cream that was dripping down his fingers and slim wrist without much thought. "There were so many people ....”

Draco swallowed hard, watching Potter's tongue slide over his own fingers and then lick at his lips. The blond unconsciously ran his tongue over his own lips. "Um, yes," he said.

"Thanking me again," Harry continued, making sure to get it all off before he started on the ice cream in the cone. "I wish they'd stop."

"I understand," Draco said softly, struggling to focus on his job and _not_ that tongue. "You did something amazing, but they don't understand what it cost you."

"I know, I just ....” Harry bit his lip, looking down at his ice cream cone and licking around the edge.

"You don't remember any of it? Not even in your dreams?" Draco asked, settling down onto both knees now as he looked up at the other man.

"I remember everything in my dreams," Harry said sadly, holding the ice cream out for Malfoy. He had noticed that the other man didn't have a cone.

Draco smiled at him and leaned forward, taking a lick of the ice cream.

"I just can't remember all of that," Harry sighed, leaning in as well to take a lick of his own.

Draco drew back, giving him room, but his eyes were drawn to the other man's mouth, watching him as if hypnotised.

Harry kept holding it out for Malfoy, so they could continue to share it that way. "I just ... sometimes I don't feel like I deserve all of that." Harry was admitting more than he ever had before.

"Why not?" Draco asked quietly, alternating licks on the ice cream with the other man. He understood Harry was frightened of crowds, but wanted to get a better sense of why people's gratitude upset him.

"Because I can't remember any of it," Harry repeated, looking down. "How do I know if I was even the one to do it?"

"There were Death Eaters who survived and were questioned under Veritaserum," Draco said softly. He didn't add that Potter had still been clutching Voldemort's wand when he was found.

Harry swallowed and sighed, sure that there was no way to deny that. The ice cream was melting again so Harry concentrated on just that, licking it so it didn't drip down his hand again.

Draco sat on his knees, quietly watching the other man. He felt they had made a lot of progress today. Harry had actually spoken with someone besides Draco and had behaved nearly normally. He smiled, eyes drawn to a spot of ice cream on the man's chin, resisting the urge to rub it off, or even better, lick it clean. Not an option, he reminded himself.

Harry eventually ate enough of the cone to satisfy himself, and held it out for Draco to have the rest. "Thank you again, Malfoy.”

Draco took the remains of the cone from him, nibbling at it. After a moment, he cocked his head. "Do you like calling me that?"

"It's your name," Harry said, pulling his knees up to his chest and sighing. He felt tired now.

"It's my family name," Draco said. "You know _my_ name."

"Draco," Harry said, the name sounding strange in his mouth. And yet, it felt better than "Malfoy" because that name also meant someone he didn't like to think about. "Draco," he said again.

Draco smirked a bit at that and nodded. "Do you like it when I call you Harry?" he asked. He knew he had slipped into using it more lately.

"Okay.” Harry nodded, thinking that it made more sense given that they were living together. That train of thought led him to wonder things about the other man that he hadn't yet answered. He wrapped his arms around his legs tightly. "Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?" the blond answered.

"Why aren't you married?" Harry asked.

Draco's eyes widened and his brows shot up. That hadn't been a question he had expected. True, most pure-bloods were married before they were out of their teens. But Harry hadn't asked anything about his life since he started working with him. It took him a minute to try to compose an answer. "I guess I haven't found the right person," he said.

"I'm holding you back," Harry said softly, resting his chin on the top of his knees. Draco should have a home of his own, some place more important than being here with Harry.

"I am doing my job, Harry," Draco said, though he knew it was far from the entire truth. Most Healers did not live with their patients. "I am not particularly interested in dating at this point," he continued.

"You've never loved anyone before?" Harry asked, rocking slightly. He didn't know why the subject upset him, but it did.

Draco frowned, noticing the body language. Harry was agitated. "So why does my love life, or lack of one, bother you?" he asked.

"I'm holding you back,” Harry whispered, biting his lip.

"No, I am right where I want to be at this point," Draco assured him. "Why? You think I am getting old?" he teased then, hoping to get Harry to smile.

But Harry didn't smile. "Yes," he replied honestly. "You have your whole life ahead of you ....”

"Yes, and I am only twenty-two. Did you know your birthday is coming up?" he asked, reminded of it now. And he was more comfortable steering this conversation away from his absent private life. Truth was that he had had lovers, but no one who he wanted to stay with, no one who mattered to him. And no one to whom he mattered anymore.

Harry went still, watching Draco. "It is?"

"Yes, today is the sixteenth of July," Draco said. "You do remember your birthday, don't you?"

Harry remembered his birthday, but he couldn't remember the last time it was celebrated. "The thirty-first," he whispered.

"Yes," Draco encouraged. "Is there something you would like for your birthday? Something you would want to do?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shaking his head. There was one thing ... but Harry didn't think he was ready for it. And he certainly didn't think the other man would agree to it.

"It's still a couple weeks away, so you let me know if you think of anything," Draco said. He smiled as he finished the last bit of cone, licking his fingers as he did.

Harry looked down at Malfoy's hand for a moment, slowly beginning to rock in his seat again. Something about the way Draco licked his lips stirred something in him and he wasn't sure how to handle it. "Okay," he said, taking a deep breath.

"You must be tired," Draco said. "Do you want a nap? Can I get you anything?"

"Nap," Harry said, reaching out for Draco.

Draco got to his feet and took Harry's hands, leading the man up to the bedroom. He sat him down on the bed, and knelt again to remove his shoes and socks.

"Will you stay?" Harry asked, slowly pulling off his shirt and holding it out for Draco to take.

Draco set the clothing aside. "You want me to stay in here?" he asked.

Harry shrugged and laid down on the bed. "If ... if you want," he said hesitantly, reaching for the blanket. Something told him that he'd be having yet another nightmare, but now he knew that having Draco near him seemed to help.

"Harry," Draco said softly, moving to tuck him in again. "The question is what do _you_ want."

Harry bit his lip, but nodded, not used to having anyone even bother to ask what he wanted, let alone actually giving it to him. "I want you to stay," he whispered.

"Do you want me to sit beside the bed again?" Draco asked, willing to do that but realising his back still hurt from the night before.

"No, lay down with me," Harry said, remembering the look of discomfort on Draco's face.

Draco arched an eyebrow. It was improper, but maybe if he left his clothes on .... He nodded, removing his own shoes and socks. "Move over," he said.

Harry was already comfortable on his spot in the bed. He always slept in it. He didn't want to move, but there was no space on the other side of the bed for Draco to get in, so he ended up shifting over to the side.

Draco lay down on the bed, a little nervous when he didn't know what to do.

Harry didn't move closer, but he held out his hand for Draco to take.

Draco smiled and took his hand, lying on his back and trying to relax. He knew he should not enjoy holding the man's hand this much. Yet, there was something that just felt right about it to him.

Harry was afraid of getting closer to Draco, even when he knew for a fact that the man had said he wouldn't hurt him. That was something Harry wanted, to not be afraid anymore. To be able to control his own mind, and to be who he couldn't exactly remember being years ago. To love someone. To be loved in return. He looked at Draco, biting his lip in thought.

Draco turned his head to look at the other man. He could see a struggle behind those green eyes and wasn't sure how to interpret it. "Does this work?"

"Yes.” Harry blushed softly and looked down at their hands before closing his eyes for sleep.

Draco smiled and tried to relax. He watched as Harry drifted off to sleep. He remembered the way he used to watch Potter in school. He had had years to think about what their rivalry had meant to him. He found himself wondering about the question Harry had posed. Why couldn't Draco find someone to settle down with, to love? The simple truth was that he didn't know the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving closer in more ways than one...


	11. Begging

Lucius lifted his wand and the chain linked to Harry's manacles attached itself to a metal loop embedded in the stone floor at the foot of the bed. The chain shortened, dragging Harry across the floor until he was pinned to the spot. The other two ignored him then, eating their food and chatting in low tones that made the words hard to catch.

Harry didn't know how long he lay there, the waves of pain finally bringing tears to his eyes. He didn't want to give in. It was when he began to sob, his body shuddering so hard he was convulsing, that Harry looked up at them finally. "Please," he moaned through the tears, not even sure if he was loud enough. "Please ... make it stop!"

Lucius glanced his way, but didn't respond. Voldemort returned his chair to the original position and took a seat.

Harry swallowed and tried again, speaking louder. "Please, I'm sorry, just please ... make it stop ... please."

Lucius smiled coldly and walked over to look down at Harry. "You want something, whore?" he asked.

"It hurts," Harry whispered, reaching out to try to touch him. Lucius stayed just out of reach and laughed at him Harry groaned. "Please ... touch me."

"Why should I when watching you suffer is so entertaining?" Lucius challenged.

"Because it hurts so much," Harry sobbed, closing his eyes and wishing he'd pass out.

"You will need to do better than that," the man taunted.

Harry didn't know what else he could possibly say that would make the man stop the pain. "Please touch me!" He swallowed and looked up at him. "Anything! F-fuck ... me," he stuttered, never having to say the words together before, but it looked like that was what they wanted.

Harry heard Voldemort laugh and Lucius smiled. "Such a slut to be begging so soon," the blond teased. He raised his wand and the chain attached to the manacles detached from the floor. "Crawl to your Master," he said.

Harry slowly got up onto his hands and knees and crawled toward Voldemort, his head bowed in shame, with Lucius watching his progress.

When Harry reached the man's feet, the Dark Lord smiled. "Tell us what a slut you are, Harry," Voldemort said.

"I ... I'm ... a slut," Harry said quietly, just wanting to get whatever Voldemort wanted to do to him over with.

"Tell me what you want us to do to you, Harry," Voldemort insisted.

"I want you to ... fuck me," Harry whispered, staring hard at the floor as the words left his mouth. He could not believe he was doing this. His stomach heaved but the pain was crawling over his skin and he felt such an aching need it was driving him mad.

Voldemort smiled then, a disturbing sight and, even more disturbing, his cock began to fill again, rising from his lap. "You did well with Lucius," he taunted. "So you should know what to do now."

Harry didn't want to seem too eager, yet, he couldn't help but move a little closer, taking a deep breath before he leaned down and pulled Voldemort's cock into his mouth. The pain was still there but it seemed to lessen when he did this. Harry fought his revulsion, breathing through his nose.

"Oh, you will make a good toy. You are an eager whore, aren't you, Harry?" the Dark Lord said, hand on Harry's head as he sucked him. Harry couldn't respond even if he wanted to while sucking and feeling the pain lessening more. After a couple of minutes and the feel of Voldemort's cock thickening in his mouth, the Dark Lord tugged on his hair sharply. "Enough, slut," he snapped. "Stand up and bend over the end of the table."

Harry slowly stood up and turned to bend over the table like he said, knowing that this was what he had asked for. The food was tantalizingly close but his need to be touched was stronger than his hunger. He heard Voldemort get to his feet and then he was behind him. He felt the talons of the man's fingers grip the cheeks of his arse. Harry winced and pressed his face against the table, not wanting to look at the food. All he could hope for was that the pain would stop once this was all over.

He felt the head of Voldemort's cock against the tight ring of his anus and before he could even respond it was pressing into him. Harry's head snapped up as sharp pain lanced through him, curling up his spine. He cried out as Voldemort moaned and just continued. Harry felt like was being ripped apart as that thick organ pushed deeper. It lessened the needy ache in the rest of his body but the agony of this was blinding. "No!" he sobbed, writhing to get away before he realised what he was doing, his back arched sharply. Lucius had made it look like it felt good.

Voldemort's hands held him pinned to the table while he began to thrust into Harry's body, each movement a searing pain inside. Harry cried out with every thrust, beginning to claw at the table, his nails scratching the wood. Voldemort groaned, pounding so hard into Harry that the young man's hips were grinding into the side of the table. Lucius stood nearby smiling.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, Harry thought about this being his first time. It made Harry feel sick to his stomach to think that there was nothing he could do about it. He'd never get his virginity back.

It felt like forever that Harry lay under the Dark Lord, but eventually the creature hissed and thrust a last time, filling him with his seed. Harry went limp, his fingers slowly uncurling. His throat and lips were dry but he couldn't gather enough energy to even lick his lips.

Voldemort pulled back and Harry could feel slick warm liquid leaking out of his arse and dribbling down his thighs. Harry barely managed to stay standing up, his legs shaking hard with the effort. Before Harry had a chance to move, he felt the brush of hands on his buttocks again. Lucius stood behind him.

Harry froze. He squeezed his eyes shut, already knowing what was going to happen next. Lucius' cock was larger than Voldemort's and it stretched his already torn hole as he shoved into Harry. Harry groaned deeply, his nails digging into the table again. Harry couldn't compare anything to this kind of pain. Right now he was thinking that even the Cruciatus Curse was something he'd rather tolerate. At the very least, it was less humiliating.

Lucius growled as he pumped his hips hard and fast into the young man until he, too, came inside him. Harry gritted his teeth as he went limp once again, feeling too many things at once. He couldn't focus on anything, the world blurry even with his glasses.

Lucius cast _Lavare_ to clean himself and then walked back to sit down in the other chair.

Harry could only stand up a moment longer before he fell to his knees and then slowly onto his side, staring at a spot on the wall. It almost surprised him to feel something poking him in the stomach ... and that's when he remembered his own cock, still hard and aching, adding to everything else. "Can I come, please?" Harry asked, realising that nothing he wanted would be done unless he begged for it somehow.

"You think you have earned it, whore?" Lucius asked him.

"Yes," Harry answered quietly, looking up at him.

"Lie down here where we can see you better," Voldemort said, pointing to the floor between their chairs.

Harry crawled to the spot and lay down on his back, feeling exhausted.

Voldemort flicked his fingers and the constricting magical thread around Harry's cock released. He came hard and painfully, back bowed with it and his seed coating his stomach and chest in slick spurts. He was hardly feeling any of the pleasure that usually came with release. He lay on the floor, covered in his own come combined with theirs.

Harry lay panting for several minutes, turning on his side to relieve some of the pressure on his injuries. He was still hungry and his stomach decided to grumble loudly once again, making Harry curl up a little.

Lucius Summoned a plate of pastries from the table and nibbled at one, watching Harry with amusement.

Harry's eyes trailed back up Lucius' chair and to the pastry he was eating. Maybe if he asked for that as well .... "Can I have food, please?" he asked quietly, swallowing to wet his throat.

Lucius looked to Voldemort, who nodded. The blond tossed a pastry to the floor, where it broke into bits. Harry watched it for a moment before he reached for the pieces, and ate them, one by one until there wasn't anything left.

***

Harry woke up feeling warm, much too warm. His eyes slowly opened, and he looked around sleepily, shifting slightly in the bed. That's when he noticed that he was being held against someone, their arms tight around him. Harry stiffened as his heart sped up, bile rising in his throat.

Draco was still asleep, but he felt warm and comfortable, his arms around the other man.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through his nose as it slowly came back to him where he was. He remembered wanting the other man to sleep with him, holding hands before he fell asleep. He tried to calm down, but he didn't move, afraid of what would happen. He already knew that Draco liked him sexually. At least, he thought so.

Draco's face was pressed to the back of Harry's head and, still sleeping, he nuzzled the thick hair.

Harry made a small whimpering sound, beginning to shake. There were nights before when his captor was like this to Harry, but then there was always a change. Pain that followed the embrace. Always.

"Harry?" Draco asked, waking to the sound of his distress. He realised he was holding the man and tensed, before releasing him. "I'm sorry."

Harry curled up once Draco let go of him, trying to calm down the best he could. He was almost afraid that he'd get punished now and that made him shake harder.

"I ... I didn't mean ...” Draco stammered, sitting up.

"Don't hurt me," Harry whispered, tensing and curling tightly to ward off the blows his mind told him would follow.

"Oh, Harry," Draco sighed, "I wouldn't hurt you. Do you know where you are?"

Harry gritted his teeth and opened his eyes, just to get a quick look at where he was. "Draco?" he asked in confusion.

"Yes, and do you know where we are?" Draco asked again, fingers curled hard into his palms to keep himself from reaching out to the distressed man.

"Home," Harry whispered, uncoiling and turning over. He tried to shake off the dream, the memories that pulled at him.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed now, not sure what to do. He had thought lying there and holding Harry's hand would help, but now he felt bad about upsetting him. As a Healer he knew he should ask about Harry's memories. He felt conflicted. "Yes, safe at home," he assured him.

Harry sighed, letting himself relax on the bed. He looked up at Draco apologetically. "Sorry ....”

"No, not your fault," Draco said quickly, then took a deep breath. "Can you tell me about it?"

Harry could, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He sniffled and looked away. "About what ....”

"What you remember, what you felt," Draco prompted. "It will help you heal to talk about it."

Harry was silent for a long time, staring off into space. "Sometimes he did that to me," Harry whispered, looking back at Draco.

"Held you?" Draco asked, voice soft.

Harry nodded, flushing in embarrassment. He felt shame, remembering he had found comfort in it.

"Then he would hurt you," Draco said. "Who?"

"Him ... Voldemort," Harry said, feeling a small shudder go through him just from saying his name.

"He was evil, a monster who hurt you," Draco said, wishing Harry would reach for him. "I won't let anyone do that to you again."

"You won't?" Harry asked quietly, looking up into Draco's eyes. "How?"

Draco flushed then. He had promised too much and he knew it. He couldn't have prevented it even then. He just wasn't powerful enough. "I will do my best to protect you, especially until you are well enough to care for yourself," he said, wanting to promise more.

Harry thought that over, slowly beginning to shift over to Draco, inch by inch. "For as long as it takes?" he asked, searching Draco's grey eyes for assurance.

They weren't supposed to make promises like this to patients. But this wasn't just a patient to Draco. This was Harry. Draco looked into those green eyes and felt his heart ache. "Yes," he said softly.

Harry laid his hand over Draco's, moving close. "I trust you," he whispered.

To have Harry Potter, of all people, say that to Draco made him shiver. Few people trusted him. He had had to work very hard just to be accepted back into his own country. He had trained in France but had wanted to come home now that the war was over.

Harry took Draco's hand in his and shifted, resting his head on Draco's thigh, relaxing slowly against him.

Draco reached his other hand, trembling, to pet Harry's hair. He bit back a groan of pleasure at the feeling. This was about Harry's comfort, not his, he reminded himself.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, squeezing Draco's hand gently. "Did I miss your birthday?"

Draco smiled and huffed. "You hadn't seen me in years and we weren't friends, you can hardly be expected to know my birthday."

"I was just wondering," Harry murmured, smiling a little himself without noticing it.

"My birthday is the fifth of June," Draco told him. "I am only a couple months older than you."

"I'm twenty-one," Harry said, more to himself than to Draco.

"Yes, and soon you will be twenty-two," Draco smiled, happy to see that Harry was recognising he was in the present.

Harry still didn't like the fact that he couldn't remember this until Draco told him, but at least he knew now. "I'm old," he mumbled.

Draco laughed at that, having to resist the urge to kiss the man on the forehead. "Yes, we are ancient," he teased him. "You want to go down to dinner?"

Harry shifted and lifted his head up. "Okay," he said, moving to get out of the bed, but he didn't let go of Draco's hand yet. "I don't know how much I can eat, though."

"You are doing very well," Draco assured him, leading him downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Older than their years.


	12. Everything Lost

It had been a quiet day. It was lunch time and Harry was at the table, drinking his soup and sitting beside Draco, much closer to him than he had allowed anyone before. He honestly trusted the other man now and felt safe around him.

"What the fuck?" they heard from the doorway behind them.

Draco looked up to find Ronald Weasley and his sister standing in the doorway of the dining room.

"Oh, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, glaring at Malfoy as she walked over to rest her hands on Harry's shoulders and look around at him to see if he was all right. "Are you okay?"

Harry flinched and made a small noise of distress. He went still, his eyes wide as he looked to Draco.

"What the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?" Ron demanded of Malfoy, drawing his wand.

Draco scowled, his old memories of Weasley making it hard to control his temper. He glanced worriedly at Harry. Taking a deep breath, he placed both hands on the table so Weasley could see he hadn't drawn his wand. "I am supposed to be here," he said as evenly as he could, a bit of his old drawl creeping into his voice.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, slowly pulling her hands back.

Harry turned away the moment Ginny let go of him, reaching for Draco, grabbing his arm with both trembling hands.

Ron still had his wand out but he frowned in confusion as Harry reached for the blond. "Somebody better tell me what is going on here," he demanded.

Draco placed a hand over Harry's on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "If you will put the wand away, I will," he said as calmly as he could to Ron.

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest while still holding on tightly to Draco with one hand and wrapping his other arm around his legs.

"What have you done to him?" Ginny asked, looking just as confused. "Potion or a spell? He hasn't reacted like this with anyone before!"

"If you would both sit down, I can have the house-elf bring us tea and we can talk," Draco said, voice quavering a bit. "Yelling will upset Harry."

Ginny looked wary, stepping around to stand next to her brother. "Harry, please talk to us," she begged, looking at him with pity in her eyes.

Harry didn't look up at either of them, closing his eyes tightly and beginning to rock.

Draco called for the elf and told him to get tea for their "guests." Kreacher went to do so, muttering about blood-traitors.

Ginny looked like she was about to burst into tears and her brother pulled out a chair for her. She dropped into it, watching Harry with obvious distress. Ron scowled but sat opposite Draco. He set the wand on the table and looked suspiciously at the blond. "Why are you here with Harry? Why isn't he still in St Mungo's?"

"I am a Healer. I work with St Mungo’s," Draco said and enjoyed the looks of shock on the other two faces.

"How are you, of all people, a Healer?" Ginny asked, looking suspicious as well.

"Give me a minute," Draco said, turning to face Harry. "You still here with us?" he asked him softly, patting his hand.

Harry made an uncomfortable sound, looking toward the stairs. He wanted to go, to not see these people when he was like this. And the wands and shouting scared him, reminded him of things he didn't want to think about.

"I am right beside you, Harry," Draco soothed, doing his best to ignore the indignant looks of the other two.

"Harry, we're not going to hurt you," Ginny said, obviously offended by the implication and trying to sound as gentle as possible.

Ron's mouth was hanging open in shock.

Draco ignored them both. "No one is going to hurt you," he said in an effort to calm Harry.

"Promise?" Harry asked softly, biting his lip and looking into Draco's face.

Ginny let out a small gasp, as if it were the first time she had ever heard Harry speak.

"Yes, I promise," Draco assured him. "So let me explain it to them." How he was supposed to get two people who hated him to listen to him was a question he didn't have an answer to, but knew he had to try for Harry's sake.

Harry nodded once and stopped rocking, but he didn't pull his hand or his gaze away from Draco.

"Tell us what you did right now, Malfoy," Ginny whispered fiercely, reaching for her own wand.

Ron's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he didn't seem to know what to say. "Harry?" was all he managed.

Harry slowly looked over at Ron, but didn't reply, trying to think of the times they had had together before everything bad happened. Those memories felt like they had happened to someone else.

Draco sighed and turned back to the two redheads. "I finished my education in France and studied to be a Healer at the academy there," he explained. "I recently took a position at St Mungo's, where they asked me to try to work with Harry."

"You? A Healer? And they thought you of all people would be able to help him?" Ginny asked. "He hasn't talked to any of us since he came back! What makes them think that you'd be any help?"

Ron nodded firmly, eyes narrowed. "He hates you," he insisted.

"They had me try to talk to him and he responded to me," Draco explained, tense at having to explain himself to these two. "I have read his file. I know he hadn't responded to anyone in over a year. It's not that unusual for someone who has been through something traumatic to withdraw from people he was close to before the event."

"Event? You mean before Voldemort, your father and his cronies captured and tortured him!" Ron snarled.

Draco flushed and clenched his teeth as Harry began trembling again. Draco sucked in a breath. "You are upsetting Harry," Draco said. "As his Healer, I am going to have to insist your either calm down or leave."

"You insist? How dare you!" Ron shouted, getting to his feet again.

"Ron," Ginny said, eyes locked on Harry who was now whimpering. She reached a hand up and pulled her brother back down. "Sit down and stop shouting."

Ron growled but did so, glowering at Draco.

"I want to know what's so different about you? He did hate you in school. He did. Right, Harry? Don't you hate Malfoy?" Ginny asked, looking over at Harry.

Harry didn't so much as blink an eye at Ginny, looking back down at his half finished bowl of soup instead. She looked different. More mature. And there was a gold band around the ring finger of her left hand that made Harry want to ... cry. He felt his chest tighten and a lump in his throat.

Draco gently squeezed Harry's hand, where it was gripping Draco's arms so hard it would probably leave a bruise. "As far as I know, he did," Draco agreed, not happy about that fact, even now.

"So what did you do to get him to talk to you? And why the hell are you here instead of St Mungo's?" Ron demanded.

Harry's eyes trailed over to Ginny again, trying to think of how it would have been if they were in love and together. If he had gotten through the war without being damaged like he was. Would they have stayed together or would Ginny have just moved on eventually anyway? Harry looked away quickly when Ginny glanced back toward him, his hand sliding down Draco's arm to hold his hand.

"I didn't think they allowed the Healers to live with their patients," Ginny said, still watching Harry.

Draco nodded and huffed. "Well, the rules never have applied to Harry Potter, have they?" he quipped. Then more seriously, "He wasn't responding to the traditional therapies. I thought being in his own home might help."

"Why would he talk to you of all people?" Ron demanded again.

Ginny looked like she was waiting for that reply as well, but she kept looking over at Harry. "And is he doing okay?" she asked.

"I don't know why me," Draco admitted. "Maybe I remind him of the time before the war. But it is a good sign, it means he can respond."

"Harry, why don't you talk to us?" Ginny begged.

"Don't push and I think he might, eventually," Draco urged. "Alienation is a normal symptom for people in his condition. It doesn't mean he cares less about you. In fact, the opposite may be true. He has had trouble interacting with anyone he was close to before."

Ron was still frowning, but Ginny seemed thoughtful and maybe consoled by that. "So how is having him here a good idea?"

Draco nodded. It was actually a good question. "People who spend a long time institutionalised fall into a kind of malaise from the conditions. I thought that if Harry were someplace that felt like home, he might begin to feel more like himself."

"You could be doing anything to him," Ron challenged. "Why would they let you do this?"

"Because the alternative was to leave him to rot in the ward – for years, maybe even the rest of his life," Draco argued. "And I do keep daily notes and send a report twice a week to my supervisor at St Mungo's." Draco continued to hold Harry's hand, thumb caressing the back of it as he spoke.

"He doesn't look any better here than he did there," Ron grumbled.

Draco was about to answer that when Ginny spoke up. "No, he does," she said in wonder. "Look, his hair isn't matted, he is wearing glasses and normal clothes."

"Yes, and he is eating better," Draco added. "Yesterday, we went to Diagon Alley and he bought a new broom."

That made Ginny smile. "You were always the best Seeker I'd ever seen," she said softly, still looking at Harry. Her look changed into something else for a moment, almost into what someone would call wanting.

Harry was watching her and saw the change, which made him frown and look toward Draco again.

"It's good that you came to see him," Draco said. "He needs to get used to people again. But we need to keep the visits short and as non-confrontational as possible."

Ron flushed at that. "Are you telling me what I can say to him?"

Harry pushed his bowl away and rested his head sideways on the table, closing his eyes. The wood was cool against his cheek. He wasn't really tired, but he needed to try to sort things out in his mind.

Ginny waited a moment before she spoke again, her voice low. "Is he still hurting himself?"

Draco worried about that, but he hadn't seen any signs of it, other than the hair pulling, since they had been staying in Harry's home. But it was also why he didn't leave Harry alone. "He hasn't since we got here," Draco answered calmly, thumb still caressing Harry's hand under the table.

Ginny nodded, letting out a small sigh. "The last time we visited, Harry had managed to stash away a fork and ... well." She glanced at Ron. "I didn't ever want to see him like that again."

Draco looked at Harry. He'd read the report, of course, but he didn't like imagining it. "He's not going to do that now," he assured them. "And it probably isn't a good idea to talk about it at this point." He didn't want the Weasleys to further upset Harry.

Harry shuddered a bit, remembering the blood. He opened his eyes but didn't lift his head.

"Right," Ginny said, watching Harry's every move.

"So why don't you tell Harry a little bit about what you two have been up to?" Draco suggested, squeezing Harry's hand again for reassurance.

Ron sighed and nodded. "So we just got back from an away game," he said. "Do you remember that I play professionally now, Harry?"

"Me too," Ginny said, nodding with a smile. "Do you remember when we told you?"

Harry stared at them both blankly, but despite the look on his face, he was thinking. After a long moment, Harry lifted his head and hesitantly nodded a few times, looking between Ron and Ginny.

Draco was encouraged by Harry's response. He had managed to get them talking, and they told a still quiet Harry about their team, the games they played and assured him how much they would love it if he came to see them.

"Hey, mate," Ron told him, "you would have your own seat anytime and always."

Harry wasn't sure if he deserved that, considering the fact that Harry didn't think he was being the best friend he once was. But he nodded again before resting his head on the table with a sigh. He squeezed Draco's hand weakly.

"Harry needs rest now," Draco said. "You two are welcome to come back and visit again soon. I think it would be good for him."

Ron looked confused by Draco talking to him like that. "Um, sure," he said, awkwardly.

Ginny looked a little confused as well, but she nodded, getting ready to stand up. "And, Malfoy? ... thank you. For helping Harry."

"I'll do my best," he assured them. When they had left, Draco turned all his attention back to Harry. "So, how are you doing?" he asked him.

"Ginny's married," Harry whispered, turning his head to look at Draco.

"Yes, she is," Draco confirmed, his heart clenching. "That must be upsetting for you."

Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. He was hurt by it, deeply hurt, but he couldn't blame her. "I'm happy she moved on."

"It's okay to be upset, Harry," Draco assured him, reaching out again to pat his arm. "You cared about her."

Harry's eyes welled up before he could stop it, feeling like he would choke on it. "Can we go upstairs now?"

"Sure," Draco assured him, taking his arm and helping him up the stairs to their room. "You had a long day and need to rest," he said as he helped Harry change into his pyjamas.

Harry laid back on the bed once he was changed, pulling his pillow close and rubbing his face in it to wipe away the tears. He didn't want this to bother him, but the more he thought about it, the more he thought that it could've been him married to Ginny instead of whoever it was she had married.

"Do you love her?" Draco asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I wanted to," Harry admitted, his voice muffled since his face was still pressed into the pillow.

Draco reached to gently rub Harry's back. "It hurts?"

"A lot," Harry whispered, beginning to shake with silent sobs.

"I am ... sorry," Draco said. He understood that one of the challenges Harry faced with getting better was the realisation that his friends had moved on with their lives. It was something he himself had thought a lot about. He sometimes found himself wondering what his own life would have been like if Voldemort had never returned. He imagined how much worse it was for Harry. His job was to help Harry realise that life was still possible, still worth it, even after it all. Grieving the loss was one step toward that.

Harry cried until he felt even more tired, his pillow practically soaked. He turned his head toward Draco and sniffled, shifting closer to him.

Draco kept a soothing hand on Harry, not knowing if more was needed but pleased to see that Harry was allowing himself to feel. It was a good sign.

"Come sleep," Harry whispered, reaching for Draco's other hand.

"You sure?" Draco asked, worried about what had happened after their nap.

Harry nodded, tugging on Draco's hand. "Please ....”

"Sure, Harry," Draco soothed and then got to his feet and changed into his own nightclothes.

Harry rolled over and made room for Draco, pulling the blanket over himself.

Draco slid into the bed and lay there, nervous about what he was doing, but feeling the pull to be near Harry regardless.

Harry threw the blanket over Draco as well, slowly moving closer. "I know you won't hurt me," he whispered.

Draco had a moment to wonder if he trusted himself with the man pressed against him. He tried to remember that Harry was a patient. That this was therapy. But the feel and smell of him was intoxicating. "I won't hurt you," he echoed softly.

Harry shifted and rested his head on Draco's chest, his hand automatically reaching for Draco's hand. "I'm okay," he said to himself, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

Draco nodded. "Yes, you are safe," he assured him, thumb caressing his hand again.

"Goodnight, Draco," Harry said softly, rubbing his cheek against Draco's chest for a moment before slowly drifting off.

Draco lay there, watching the other man for a long time before managing to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What ifs...


	13. On Display

Voldemort and Lucius kept Harry chained at the foot of the bed. The pain and need returned not long after he came, and only increased until he writhed and begged for release over and over. Then they would rape him and make him do other things that made him sick. Only when he had done what they wanted was he allowed to come or to eat. Today he had been left alone for hours. There was no one to beg for release, so he lay whimpering. The door finally opened and Lucius walked into the room.

Harry looked up at him hopefully, already opening his mouth to beg for some kind of relief. "Please," he whispered.

"Slut," Lucius sneered. "You just can't get enough, can you?"

Harry could only whimper, honestly feeling like the slut he was called. "Please let me come."

"You haven't earned it," Lucius replied.

"Let me," Harry whispered, looking up at Lucius. "Please ... let me."

Lucius released the chain from the floor and walked back to the door. "Crawl after me," he told Harry.

Harry got up onto his hands and knees and crawled toward Lucius, nodding to show him that he understood. They made their way down the corridor, Harry naked and in chains, his engorged cock swaying with his movements. They kept it magically bound and he couldn't come until they let him.

He and Lucius passed other Death Eaters in the hall and there were lewd comments and laughter at the sight of the Boy Who Lived in such a depraved state. Harry managed to ignore everyone he saw as he followed Lucius, having learned not to say anything back to them a long time ago.

Lucius led him into a room where others were gathered. Voldemort sat on a throne-like chair at the other end. Harry looked around quickly, not remembering ever having been brought here before. Lucius led him to the centre of the room; he then waved his wand and the chain attached itself to a bolt in the floor there.

Harry fell onto his side once he had stopped moving, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain intensified. "Can I ... please, I need to," Harry began to gasp, opening his eyes and looking up at Voldemort. "Please!"

There was laughter in the room. Voldemort smiled. "If you can convince someone to give you what you want, Harry," he taunted, "then you can have it."

Harry swallowed and sat up, looking around nervously. He stopped on Lucius first, ashamed to say that he was used to the other man. "Please ... fuck me ..." he begged again, looking down as he spoke the last words.

Lucius laughed and shook his head. "No," he said and stepped next to Voldemort's throne to watch.

Harry bit his lip and looked up again, glancing around the group of Death Eaters quickly. "Fuck me, please," he pleaded, looking at one of the men. There was more laughter around the room but no one moved to touch him. Harry cringed at the laughter, yet he had no choice but to continue to look around, begging everyone as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"My whore wants to play," Voldemort sneered. "He bores me now. Anyone can have him."

There was laughter and insults and one of the men stepped closer to Harry, unbuttoning his robes over his groin. "You want my prick, whore?"

Harry shuddered, nodding shamefully, unable to look up at the man.

The man pulled his robes aside, revealing an already half-hard cock. "Beg me for it, slut," he ordered.

Harry turned over onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. "Fuck me," he whispered, pressing his cheek against the floor. He was trembling hard, the pain from the potion still making him crave contact badly. There was more laughter at that and the man knelt behind him, pressing into his hole and shoving hard.

Harry fell forward from the force of the thrust, his body tensing up. Like always, the rape made the pain in the rest of his body fade, but, of course, the assault itself was just as horrible. The man pulled back, bringing Harry back onto his knees and down hard on his cock. Another man knelt in front of Harry's head. He grabbed Harry's hair and yanked up, pressing the head of his own cock to Harry's mouth.

Harry hesitantly opened his mouth for the man, looking off to the side. His vision was once again blurry with his tears and he couldn't see anything but the circle of Death Eaters, continuing to laugh and call him names. The two men set up a rhythm, both fucking him. The one holding his hair was choking him, but the treatment wasn't much rougher than what Voldemort and Lucius had done. The most horrifying part was how public this was.

Finally, one and then the other man came. Harry closed his eyes and waited for them to pull away and move, the second man's come already beginning to leak out of the sides of his mouth. The two men got up, but then Harry felt two more moving in to replace them. Harry shook his head and crumpled to the floor, coughing hard a few times. As much as he didn't want any of it, his body craved it all.

"Back up on your knees, whore," one of the men sneered.

Harry shook his head again, but moved back into position. He was shaking and he kept falling back down, feeling too weak. Another man kicked him in the side then, rolling him onto his back as he did and throwing Harry's legs over his shoulders as he shoved into him. Harry groaned softly, his head falling to the side so he wouldn't have to look at the man assaulting him. But no matter where he looked, he was surrounded by Death Eaters, many of which had their cocks out and were stroking themselves as they watched.

Harry couldn't stand looking at the others for much longer and he ended up tilting his head back, staring up at the ceiling even as the man above him moved, thrusting into him hard. Harry lost count, trying not to think or feel as the group of men took turns using him. Some even stood over him and splattered him with their come. Finally, they laughed and left him curled on the floor, soiled and still aching.

Harry swallowed against his now sore throat and shifted the best he could, looking around for Voldemort. He wanted to sleep and never wake up, but he couldn't even do that, not with the painful erection he still had. "Can I come, please?" Harry asked him, his voice hoarse.

Voldemort nodded and Lucius cast the spell to relieve Harry, who came screaming in front of the group of Death Eaters.

Harry's life became day after day of such torments. Whenever he wasn't taken to Voldemort's chambers or given to one of his servants to play with privately, Harry was chained in the big room where anyone was encouraged to use him as they wanted. And he would beg for it, because the only relief he got from the curse was when they touched him.

***

Draco woke the next morning in nearly the same position as after the nap. He loved the feel of Harry's hair against his face, and even though he should probably move, he allowed himself just to lie there with his arm around the other man. It was comfortable and arousing and the best he had felt in a long time. He chided himself. This was not supposed to be about him.

When Harry woke up, he tensed for a brief moment, his heart racing. But then he noticed one thing in particular. His hand was in someone else's ... Draco's. He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding and slowly turned around in Draco's arms.

Draco felt Harry tense and started to move. "Harry?" he said softly.

"Draco," Harry whispered in reply, snuggling closer, pressing his face to Draco's chest.

Draco shivered, but tried to relax, letting the man find comfort in his arms. "How are you today?" he asked.

"Warm," Harry answered honestly.

Draco found himself rubbing Harry's back again. "So how do you feel about all that happened yesterday?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry mumbled, shrugging slightly. He only felt sad about the meeting, not what he thought he'd feel when seeing his friends again.

"When you feel stronger, we could go to one of their home games," Draco suggested.

Harry looked up at Draco. "You'd want to go with me?"

Draco smirked. "Well, I do like Quidditch," he teased. "That is, if you can handle being seen with me in public again."

It wasn't a problem for Harry to be seen with Draco, it was more being seen at all that he didn't like. "They'll all want to thank me there, too," Harry said, sighing.

"We could use a Disguise Charm," Draco offered.

"Could we?" And then Harry went completely still, his eyes closing. Where was his wand? Why hadn't he thought of magic in such a long time? Could he still do magic? The questions swirled through Harry's mind, making him feel almost nauseated with worry.

Draco watched the play of emotions. "You are safe. Talk to me," he whispered, patting his back to comfort him.

"Magic?" Harry murmured, swallowing hard.

"Yes, we can use magic," Draco answered, not knowing what the problem was.

"I ... can I?" Harry asked fearfully, looking up at Draco.

"I assume so," Draco said. "As far as anyone knows, your magic wasn't damaged. Do you want to try my wand?"

Harry bit his lip, but nodded, looking nervous. "What if it doesn't ...?"

"If it doesn't work now, it will eventually," Draco assured him. "You are still a wizard, Harry. Magic is part of who you are."

Harry was still worried and he looked it. "I'll try later," he said, wanting to hold it off.

"Sure," Draco agreed. "We rest today. Let's go get breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a long way to have to come back from...


	14. A Shared Understanding

They fell into a new routine over the next few weeks. Draco held Harry while they slept, and both of them seemed to do better for it. The only time Draco managed to be alone was the occasional shower. And it was there that he wanked. It wasn't right to think about Potter when he did, but he couldn't help it. He needed the release, especially if he had to control himself around the other man.

Now they were seated at the table having lunch. Draco set the _Daily Prophet_ aside and cocked his head. "Your birthday is only two days away," he said.

Harry had noticed the date on the paper and he nodded, setting his sandwich down. "I remember," he replied softly, reaching for his glass of water.

"What do you want to do to celebrate?" Draco asked.

Harry blinked at him over the glass, swallowing and setting it down again. "I don't know ....” Only there actually was one thing that he wanted to try.

"No ideas?" Draco asked, looking up at him. He had hoped that Harry would start formulating things he wanted. It was a critical step if he was to rebuild his life.

Harry looked down at the table, reaching to fidget with the end of his shirt. "There's one thing," he whispered.

"What?" Draco asked, sipping his tea. He hoped Harry wanted to see some of his friends.

"You ... can make _it_ feel good," Harry said, tensing up slightly as he waited for a reaction.

"Make what?" Draco asked. He tried to keep his expression neutral when he realised he might have an idea of the direction this was going.

"Sex," Harry clarified quietly, biting his lip once again. "I mean, it doesn't even have to be that, just ... I want to ... feel good." He was having a hard time explaining himself, but he hoped Draco understood.

"Because what they did hurt," Draco whispered, his body tense. He had told Harry that sex could be great, but the other man had no reason to believe him. Maybe Draco should have seen this request coming, but he hadn't.

"Yeah," Harry closed his eyes in pain for a moment, but then opened them again quickly, to keep himself there in the present. "And I know it's supposed to feel good, I just don't ... _know_ ," Harry mumbled.

Draco looked up, meeting his eyes. "Did it never feel good?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted, looking away. "But I didn't like it because it wasn't supposed to feel good."

"You would want to do ... something ... with me?" Draco asked, curious about that. He knew Harry had thought to use sex to thank him, to placate him the way he had his captors. He wasn't convinced that Harry actually desired Draco himself and that this wasn't another aspect of the conditioning to please others.

"I trust you," Harry explained softly, slowly looking back over at Draco. "You haven't hurt me." He had found himself thinking a lot about this. The pleasure he felt when Draco held him stirred something in Harry and he wanted to know if more would feel even better.

"Wouldn't you want to wait for someone you cared about?" Draco asked.

Harry had come to realise that even if he did get better, he wasn't sure if he could really go out and try to find someone else. "No."

"Harry, there are lots of people who would want you," the blond said gently. "You don't owe me anything. I am supposed to help you, not take advantage of you."

"I don't want anyone else," Harry said, sighing. He knew Draco wouldn't like the idea, even if it was his birthday. "You won't be taking advantage. I said it doesn't have to be sex, I just want to feel good for once."

"What ... what then?" Draco asked, heart speeding up. It was good that Harry was talking, but this was a dangerous idea and completely against the rules.

Harry wasn't sure of what anything was really called, but he knew Draco did. "You know," he muttered, glancing up at him.

Draco thought about it. Most people would consider it wrong if he did this. But maybe Potter was right, maybe he did need someone to show him he could feel pleasure. "Touching your body, that's sex still, isn't it?" Draco asked him.

Harry shrugged, looking over at his sandwich. He really wasn't sure what normal people did for sex anyway. "I don't know," he admitted.

"If I did," Draco said, pausing, "and they found out, they would take me off your case." He didn't add that he could also be arrested if someone really wanted to push it. Harry was still technically a ward of the Ministry.

"I won't tell," Harry said, looking at him again. Harry was good at not talking, Draco should've known that by now. But did that mean Draco would do it? Hope flared in him and he almost didn't know what to do with it.

Draco couldn't figure out if he was thinking about this because he wanted to help Harry, or if it was because he was so drawn to the other man. This is why it was against the rules. He didn't know the answer. "I will ... consider it," he said.

Harry wasn't sure if that was really Draco saying that he'd think about it, or if it was his nice way of saying no. Either way, Harry nodded and reached to pick up his sandwich and finish it. He was used to not getting what he wanted.

"Do you want to see any of your friends for your birthday?" Draco asked, trying to coax Harry into another step toward coming out of his isolation.

"I still haven't seen Hermione," Harry said softly, wondering how his other best mate was doing.

"Do you want her or any of the others to come over? You could have them visit for dinner or something?" Draco suggested.

Harry shrugged slightly, pushing away his empty plate. "I won't be a very good host," he said.

"I don't think that would matter to your friends," Draco said.

"I guess ....” Harry glanced at Draco, running a hand through his hair. "I feel ... like I'm just … disappointing them."

"You don't think they will be happy to see you are getting better?" Draco asked.

"But I'm not like I was," Harry replied simply.

"Harry," Draco said quietly. "You are probably never going to be exactly as you were before. Even if the bad things that happened to you hadn't, you still would have changed. Look how much I have changed." He was aware his argument was weakened by what he had gone through as well, but it was a valid point regardless.

"Never would've thought you'd end up being a Healer," Harry said, thinking that what Draco said made some sense.

"No, I don't think anyone would have," Draco said, shaking his head.

"I wanted to be an Auror," Harry said quietly, pulling his knees up so he could rest his chin on them.

"I became a Healer because I wanted to do something to make up for ... for the things I did," Draco admitted.

"Do you feel better about it?" Harry asked, sliding his arms around his legs and tightening them. He wanted to make up for what he had done, but didn't think he ever could.

Draco got up from the table and held his hand out to Harry. "Let's go to the other room and talk," he said.

Harry took it easily and pulled himself up, walking with Draco to the next room. "Talk about what?"

Draco led him to the sitting room and sat down on the sofa. "You and I have never talked about what happened back then," he said.

Harry wasn't sure of what he was talking about, assuming that "back then" meant what had happened once he was captured. He shook his head quickly, still not wanting to talk about that.

"You've never asked what happened after I left Hogwarts at the end of sixth year," Draco pointed out.

"Oh." Harry tilted his head to the side and pulled his knees up like he usually did, nodding for Draco to go on.

"Do you know why I left?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Harry said, remembering the night that Dumbledore was killed.

"You know what I did?" Draco asked, eyes widening in surprise.

"I was there," Harry said, closing his eyes and remembering. "Under my Cloak."

"Where?" Draco asked suspiciously, heart speeding up with his own memories of that night.

"The tower." Harry nodded, slowly remembering every detail. The way he couldn't move under the Cloak, the change in Draco's attitude. How Harry could tell that Draco really didn't want to do it, but he had to.

Draco went still. He hadn't known. But he remembered now that he had suspected something when he had seen the second broom. "So you know I let them in," he said in a whisper.

"I know," Harry said, opening his eyes. It didn't change anything between them. Harry still trusted him. He saw Draco change that night, and he knew that he was changed now.

"That I nearly killed Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, that I let Fenrir in and he nearly killed Bill Weasley?" Draco reminded him. His own stomach clenched with remembered shame. At first it had been shame at not being able to kill Dumbledore, but later it had turned to horrified regret at the damage he had done, and that it might have been even worse.

Harry nodded a few times, looking Draco in the eyes. "Did you have a choice?"

"Dumbledore tried to give me a choice," Draco answered, voice holding a bitter edge even now. "I didn't take it."

"And then Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry said, beginning to slowly rock. "I remember. I couldn't do anything but watch."

"Severus had taken an Unbreakable Vow to protect me, and to do it for me if I couldn't," Draco said. "So he did and then he got me away. He took me to France, where he had a Fidelius Charmed safe-house. I spent the war in hiding there."

"When did you come back?" Harry asked, trying to figure out the timing.

"Only a few months ago," Draco said. "I spent the war in hiding. When you ... destroyed the Dark Lord, I was able to come out of hiding, but I stayed in France to finish my education."

"Ah," Harry sighed. "And then you came here." He knew he would still be locked in St Mungo's if Draco hadn't come. He wasn't well, but he was much happier here than in there. Some days he even felt like he might be okay again.

"I am British," Draco said. "I wanted to come home. I still had access to our international accounts while in France, so I hired a solicitor to get my name cleared. There was a trial, but because I was underage and threatened into my crimes, I was able to clear it up with fines instead of prison time."

"I'm glad you came back," Harry said, letting some of his feelings about that show in his face.

"So, can you tell me what I don't know then?" Draco asked. "What happened to you?" It was the most talking Harry had done yet about the past and Draco didn't want to waste the chance it might give Harry.

"Seventh year wasn't really seventh year," Harry began quietly. "I can only remember trying to figure out how to get to Voldemort, how to kill him and be done with this entire war. I started going on small missions ... and ....” Harry paused then, trying to remember more of exactly how he was captured, but it was foggy and he didn't want to talk about that anyway.

"And you were captured?" Draco asked, trying to get Harry past his block.

Harry nodded, looking down and letting his hair cover his face. "Yeah ....”

Draco reached out, fingers gently moving Harry's hair back so he could see him. "Can you tell me about it?"

Harry bit his lip and shook his head. "Don't want to talk about it," he murmured, not looking at Draco.

"I know," Draco said quietly, fingers still caressing Harry's hair, petting him now.

"Hurts to think about it," Harry whispered softly, fighting the urge to begin rocking again.

Draco cupped Harry's face with his hand now and placed his other hand on his chest. "It's hurting you all the time," he whispered. "I want to help ease that."

Harry slowly looked up at him, the hurt apparent in his eyes. "You want me to talk about what they did."

Draco nodded. "You have to face what happened to you to move past it," he said. His hand felt warm against Harry's chest and he could feel his own heart speed up.

Harry wanted to talk about it, just to make Draco happy, but at the same time he was scared ... so scared. He trembled. "I can't."

"Sometime you will, and I will listen," Draco said soothingly. "It will be safe to tell me. I won't judge you. I understand what they were like." He tried to suppress a shudder at his own memories, of being taken before Voldemort, of his aunt and his father and the things they had done to him, made him do.

"Do you really?" Harry asked quietly, looking slightly surprised.

"My aunt and my father were Death Eaters," Draco reminded him, swallowing hard and trying to keep his breathing even.

Harry cringed and looked down, remembering everything that the older Malfoy had done to him.

Draco saw the look and couldn't stop the shiver in his own body. "He was there, wasn't he?" he asked.

Harry swallowed and nodded, not sure of how Draco would take that piece of information. How could he tell Draco that his own father had tortured and raped him? Thinking about it hurt enough; saying it might hurt Draco, too.

It had always been a possibility. Lucius had gotten out of prison and was beside the Dark Lord until he died. Only Severus had known where Draco was, so he had been spared being called to his father's side. "I ... I know what he was like," he admitted, face flushed then.

Harry blinked up at him, wondering exactly what he meant by his admission. Was he also a victim or did he just see his father? "How?"

It was Draco's turn to feel pressed, and he looked away. Normally, you didn't share what had happened to you with patients. Another rule. But it was also a rule that he had had to do his own therapy as part of his training. He had faced it and he had survived. It didn't mean that it was easy to talk about still. Draco trembled, the hand on Harry's face slipping away. "Yes, probably as bad as you are thinking," he admitted, face colouring.

Harry reached for Draco's hand as it slipped down, holding it tightly in his own. It was strange, having someone who knew how it felt to be ... hurt like he had been. He didn't know what to say. Somehow it made more sense knowing, though.

Draco shivered at his own memories. He still didn't look at Harry's face for a minute while he fought to control himself. "My aunt and my father, they both tried to make me like themselves and ... punished me when I failed. So, I know what they were capable of," he said. "And I know they could even make you do things you would be ashamed of."

This changed things, it definitely did. "So ashamed that you ... want to die," Harry whispered.

"Yes," Draco whispered back, eyes closing. "But I wanted to live more. So I did whatever they told me to do."

"Yeah, because you had to or it would only get worse, and worse," Harry said, sniffling and closing his eyes as well. "And they never stop ... no matter what."

"They liked humiliation as much as the sex and the pain," Draco agreed, turning to face Harry now.

Harry nodded, squeezing Draco's hand tightly. His eyes were still closed, and he was beginning to shake, the memories getting to him.

Draco's hand on Harry's heart slid up his chest to cup the back of his head and he leaned forward until his forehead was pressed to Harry's. He still held the the man's hand with the other. "Yes, they hurt you, they hurt us both," he said.

Harry opened his eyes and pulled back enough to look into Draco's gaze, his lips trembling as he spoke, "You understand, you really do," he said in wonder.

"Yes," Draco agreed. It was part of why he had taken the case. He knew without Harry having to tell him what some of the things were that they would have done. And he felt his own share of guilt that his own father had done it. He didn't know how Harry could stand to look at him. It would have made more sense to Draco if Harry had tried to kill him on sight.

Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat and reached out, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him into a hug. Why hadn't he told him sooner? Harry felt that now they had a strange kind of connection, and it would be easier, or at least possible, to tell Draco what had happened.

Draco gasped in surprise as Harry held him and he allowed himself to follow his feelings, one hand at the back of Harry's head and the other freed now to move around his waist. The contact seemed to ease some of the pain he felt.

Harry slowly let his legs unfold, keeping his arms around Draco. Their faces were close, so close that if Harry moved any closer their noses would nudge and, upon further inspection, their lips would be touching. "I'm glad you're the one who's helping me, Draco," he whispered, his breath mingling with the blond's.

"Well, you didn't give me a lot of choice," Draco teased. "You hadn't bloody well spoken to anyone in a year." He pulled back enough to smile, looking into Harry's eyes. Draco’s thoughts and feelings right then were anything but professional, and his heart was beating so fast he felt dizzy.

"No one else asked me nicely," Harry replied, attempting his own little joke. It was only half true, a lot of the Healers there did ask him nicely about what happened, but when he wouldn't talk about it, some of them became frustrated and that's when he was given another Healer. It had been continuously like that.

Draco's fingers played with the hair at the nape of Harry's neck and he licked his lips unconsciously. "I was never nice to you, even that day," he said, "but you spoke to me anyway."

"You weren't," Harry said softly, remembering the first day that Draco walked into his room at St Mungo's. He remembered feeling a mixture of fear, anger, and confusion, which had all prompted his whimpers and growls. "I don't know why I did."

"I thought you would ignore me or attack me, like you did in school," Draco said. "But you always surprise me." His face was still so close to Harry's that he could feel the man's breath on his lips, almost taste him. It sent a shiver down his spine to pool as heat lower in his body.

"The same with you," Harry sighed, feeling himself relax as Draco continued to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

Part of his brain told Draco to screw the rules. He was Slytherin, after all, and this was Harry. Harry was wrapped around him. Harry, who had asked, practically begged him, to show him pleasure. "Harry," he whispered against his lips, and then gently allowed his mouth to caress the other man's.

Harry wasn't sure of what was happening at first, blinking a few times. He slowly realised that Draco was kissing him, that his lips were moving against his own. Harry didn't pull away, finding that he enjoyed the feeling. It was much different from the violent kisses he had been subjected to before.

Draco gently caressed Harry's lips with his own, using them to softly massage the other man's, even as his fingers still cradled the back of the dark-haired man's head. Harry hesitated another moment but then he began to respond, slowly moving his own lips against Draco's. After a long minute of small caresses with his lips, Draco allowed the tip of his tongue to slide between them, licking softly at Harry's lips.

Harry breathed in sharply, but let his lips part for him, wanting to know what Draco would do next. He felt this tingle of anticipation that was different from the usual fear of being touched.

Draco's tongue traced the inside of Harry's lips, his body shivering in pleasure as he did.

Harry thought it felt weird, but in an entirely pleasant way. He moved his own tongue to touch Draco's, gasping at the pleasure that stirred through him.

Draco relaxed, just enjoying the tender kisses, tongue sliding with Harry's, their breath mingling and his hand in the man's hair. Even though it aroused him, it also felt peaceful.

Harry slowly pulled away from the kiss, breathing a little harder. His throat felt dry and he swallowed, leaning to shyly press his lips against Draco's one more time.

Draco smiled, just sitting and holding him. "You okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Harry answered softly, slowly looking into his eyes. "You kissed me."

"Yes, I did," Draco answered, licking his lips. "I am not supposed to do that either, but I liked it. Did you?"

Harry nodded quickly, his cheeks colouring. "I liked it a lot," he said, glad that Draco broke whatever rules there were.

"So we never do anything you don't like," Draco said. "That's _our_ rule. Understand?" Was he really doing this?

"I understand," Harry said, reaching up to touch his own lips. They were warm and they felt like they were still tingling pleasantly. "Will there be more kisses?"

"I would like that," Draco said, realising he had come to a decision. "As many kisses as you want. More than kissing when you are ready, if that is what you still want."

"Just kisses for now," Harry said, his lips curling up in a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love the kissing.


	15. Only Ever Want

_And if all the world was perfect_  
 _I would only ever want to see your scars_  
\-- from "So Beautiful" by Darren Hayes

 

Harry lay in Draco's arms. He was happy. Well, as happy as he could be with the secrets he still held tightly inside him. They still made him shudder to think about them. He wasn't ready to talk about them, even though he knew now that Draco had gone through something similar, if not the same.

It was bedtime, the night before Harry's birthday. Harry was curled up with Draco, his head on the other man's chest. He was listening to the steady heartbeat as he thought to himself; every now and then he tilted his head back to press his lips against Draco's.

Since that first kiss there had been many others. Draco smiled happily as Harry continued to kiss him again and again. Now that they had started, they couldn't stop. It felt so good to touch like that. So sweet and comforting and sexy all at the same time.

The next day was Harry's birthday, and the closer the day drew near, the more he thought about what he wanted from Draco. He wondered if Draco were still considering it, especially after things had changed between them. "Draco ....”

"Yes?" Draco answered, fingers sliding through Harry's hair. He let himself enjoy it now, pushing the guilt away instead.

"My birthday is tomorrow," Harry replied quietly, hoping Draco would just immediately understand what he was trying to ask.

"It is," Draco answered, a small smile playing on his lips. "So you know what you want?"

"What I asked for before," Harry said, looking up at Draco. "I still want that." Harry felt a shiver of mingled anticipation, hope, and fear.

Draco's heart sped up again and he gently kissed Harry – just another soft caress of lips. "You want me to make love to you?" he whispered. Desire flared so strongly that he had to swallow hard, trying to rein it in.

Harry blinked at the different way of saying it, but he nodded slowly. "I ... I don't know if I'm ready for ... you know ... all the way, but … I want to feel good," he murmured, looking down.

Draco trembled a bit, licking his lips nervously. "Yes, I would like to do that for you," he agreed. "Now or tomorrow?"

Harry swallowed and shook his head. "Um, tomorrow?" he asked. "If that's okay with you."

"Whenever you want," Draco agreed, taking a deep breath to try to calm down. Holding Harry every night was wonderful. Yet, it left him aching to really touch him. Now that they had crossed the line, he didn't want to stop. He laid a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead and then reclined back, trying to settle into sleep.

"Thank you," Harry said, sighing and snuggling close for sleep himself. He couldn't believe that he was finally getting what he asked for. He was a little nervous, but he wanted to go through with it. "'Night, Draco."

"Good night, Harry," the blond answered, wrapping his arm around Harry.

***

Harry's birthday was busier than they had counted on. Not only did Ginny and Ron return to visit, but Hermione and a few other friends arrived as well. Harry had been more responsive than in the past, but became easily agitated and Draco had to help steer conversations away from difficult topics. Draco’s presence there was one of those difficult topics. He repeated the basic facts and Hermione confirmed that she had already "checked it out with the staff at St Mungo’s."

Draco finally closed the door behind the guests and sighed with relief. He walked back into the sitting room and crouched down in front of Harry where he sat on the sofa. "You want to rest?" he asked.

Harry nodded, reaching out for Draco. "Bed," he said, biting his lip gently. They were finally alone and it was time for his present from Draco. But he was nervous.

In the room, Draco hesitated, wondering if Harry was still up for this. "You tired?" he asked softly. He didn't want Harry to feel he had to go through with this if he didn't feel up to it, or had changed his mind.

Harry shrugged, sitting down on the bed. "Not really."

Draco's pulse quickened. He smiled at Harry again. "And do you still want ... ?"

"Yes," Harry said quietly, glancing up at him and flushing.

Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed and Draco crouched in front of him again. "You tell me to stop any time you want," he said. "And this ... this isn't about my pleasure. You are to relax and let me make love to you. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Harry answered, swallowing a few times. "Are you ... going to do it now?"

"I would like to," Draco answered softly, heart beating fast and body responding to the idea of it.

"Okay." Harry took a deep breath and slowly lay back on the bed, closing his eyes.

Draco took several deep breaths as he sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers trembled a bit as he reached to unbutton Harry's shirt.

"You ... you don't have to look," Harry whispered, remembering the look on Draco's face the first time he saw the scars.

"I want to look," Draco whispered. "I want to see you, touch you ... taste you." He meant every word. So many times, he had had to stop himself from really looking, so even that would be wonderful.

"If you say so," Harry said, his heartbeat speeding up as Draco pulled off his shirt.

The blond gently drew the shirt open and then helped slide it from Harry's shoulders, setting it aside. Then he softly ran the tips of his fingers back up Harry's arms.

Harry shivered at the very unfamiliar feeling, taking yet another deep breath. He didn't understand how Draco could manage to look at him like this when he couldn't even look at himself without feeling disgusted.

Draco's fingers caressed and stroked their way up Harry's arms and then over his shoulders, his neck, and then down his chest. "So beautiful," he whispered.

"No," Harry said, lips trembling and shaking his head. "I am not."

"Oh, yes, but you are," Draco answered, voice full of the sheer desire he felt when he looked at Harry. He let his fingers trace the scars, too, wanting Harry to feel pleasure where he had felt pain before.

Harry just shook his head, unable to believe him, no matter what he said. It felt weird to have someone tracing over his scars like Draco was doing, if only because of the way it made strange tingles go through his body. He almost wanted him to stop, but he didn't say anything.

Draco caressed Harry's flesh, his own body shivering at the feel of touching him. He caressed those dark nipples next, smiling at the way they pebbled to his touch.

Harry gasped softly at the feeling, involuntarily reaching to grip Draco's wrist even though he didn't want him to stop.

Draco froze, looking up into Harry's face to see what he should do.

Harry bit his lip and let go of Draco. "Sorry," he whispered.

"No apologies," Draco whispered. "Just let me know if I should stop or if I can continue."

"That ... felt good," Harry murmured, blushing hard. "It surprised me."

"I want you to feel good," the blond whispered, caressing Harry's nipples again. Then Draco bent his mouth to kiss Harry's chest. The kiss sent shocks of pleasure down his spine, and he gasped.

Harry didn't know how to react, his hands fumbling around the sheets before he gripped the fabric, a small whimper escaping him. It felt better than good.

Draco licked and kissed his way to one dark, hard nipple, taking the erect tissue into his mouth with a little moan.

Harry's eyelids fluttered shut, soft moans escaping his lips. His back arched slightly, wanting more of that feeling.

Draco licked and sucked, loving the sounds of Harry's pleasure. After a minute, he moved across Harry’s chest to the other nipple, hands caressing downward as he did.

A mixture of moans and gasps were coming from Harry as Draco continued, never having felt like this before. He wanted more, but didn't know if he could ask, or even how to ask.

Draco sucked Harry's nipple, tonguing it, the taste of him exploding in his mouth and his body shivering in response. Meanwhile, he slid his hands down the man's abdomen until he came to the waist of his trousers. He gently unfastened them.

Even with the distraction, Harry could feel Draco's fingers undoing his trousers and it made him tremble, mostly in pleasure – but in fear, as well.

Draco lifted his hand, looking at Harry's face. "I'm not going to hurt you," he assured him. "Let me touch you."

Harry bit his lip nervously, still trembling as he nodded for Draco to go on.

Draco finished unbuttoning the trousers and then peeled them down. "Lift your hips," he whispered.

Harry bit his lip harder and lifted his hips up, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He couldn't help tensing.

Draco slid the trousers and shorts down over the man's hips and down his legs, tossing them aside.

Harry shuddered hard, his eyes still closed. But with them closed, he couldn't see that it was Draco doing this to him, that he really wasn't going to hurt him.

"Harry," Draco whispered, hands lightly resting on the man's calves. "I want to know how this feels to you, to make sure it feels good."

Harry opened his eyes quickly at the sound of Draco's voice, already breathing hard. "I'm ... scared."

"I will stop if you want," Draco repeated, massaging the man's calves.

But Harry didn't want him to stop. He wanted to go through with this. "You won't hurt me," he said, nodding to himself in assurance.

"No, I won't," Draco agreed, working his hands up Harry's legs, deft fingers massaging his muscles.

"I know." Harry's legs shook, but he slowly opened them as Draco moved his hands up. Spreading his legs felt like habit, and it brought a shiver of fear with it.

Draco gasped as his fingers slid over the softer skin of Harry's inner thighs. "Oh, you feel so good."

Harry wasn't sure if Draco was saying these things to make him feel better or not. That particular sentence, though, woke up another memory and it made him wince slightly, his thighs straining to close.

"Harry," Draco whispered. "It's me, Draco, touching you because you want this." He paused his hands, waiting for Harry to calm.

Harry swallowed and nodded a few times, slowly letting his legs relax, but not completely. "I want this."

Draco took another deep breath and then moved his hands up, cupping Harry's balls with one and wrapping his fingers around his half-hard shaft with the other.

Harry gasped loudly, tensing up again as his own fingers clenched in the sheets. "Wait," he whispered quickly, trying to tell himself that he was fine.

Draco paused, heart beating faster. He realised he had moved too quickly there in his own eagerness.

"God," Harry whispered, his head falling back against the sheets. It felt so good to be held this way. _Much better,_ he thought. His cock was throbbing but it wasn't with the pain he associated with the Potion-induced arousal. This felt _good_.

Draco nodded, taking that as a signal to continue. His hand on Harry's shaft began to gently slide the foreskin back, while he stroked the man's sac with the fingers of his other hand. "Yes, just let yourself feel," he encouraged.

Harry's body quivered as Draco continued, his eyes closed. Every few moments he would make a small noise, his hips lifting up involuntarily before he would force them back down, almost like he was afraid of doing it in the first place.

"Oh, yes," Draco purred. He gently released Harry's balls and used that hand to brace himself on the bed as he leaned down, angling Harry's cock with the other hand. He drew back the foreskin on Harry's cock and very gently licked the crown.

Harry cried out before he could stop it, eyes wide and startled. He bit his lip, reaching to press a hand over his mouth to stay quiet.

"More?" Draco asked, pausing to make sure that the cry had been a good one.

Harry nodded slowly, pulling his hand away a little. "Please," he whispered.

"It's okay to make noise, to tell me what you want or how you feel," Draco whispered, and then bent his head again. He licked again, swirling his tongue around the crown, looking up at Harry as he did.

Harry still wasn't too sure about making any noise, even though Draco said he didn't mind. But he moaned deeply when Draco licked him again, his face flushing in embarrassment.

Draco rewarded that moan with more licks, running the tip of his tongue around and over the slippery head, tasting his Harry's pre-come as it oozed from that slit. He would have sworn that nothing had ever tasted so good.

Harry's toes curled up at the feeling, his body already beginning to tense up in pleasure.

Draco slid his lips over the crown, licking and sucking Harry's cock as he wrapped his fingers around the base. He was terribly aroused, his own cock straining at the fabric of his trousers.

"Draco," Harry gasped loudly, hesitantly leaning up the best he could to reach and grip Draco's shoulder. His hips were straining to move again, but he wouldn't give in and just thrust up. He didn't want to choke Draco.

Draco bobbed his head faster, sucking and licking as he felt the other man's body tremble, balls tightening and flesh quivering.

"I'm gonna ...” Harry didn't have the chance to properly warn Draco any better than that before he was coming, body writhing with pleasure.

Draco sucked and swallowed, moaning in ecstasy as he did.

"I'm sorry," Harry said almost as soon as he was done, his face burning with shame. "Sorry, I tried to stop. I'm sorry ....”

Draco drew up, licking his lips. "Oh, please don't apologise for letting me taste you," he said in a voice full of his delight.

Harry blinked and whispered another apology, looking down as the aftershocks went through his body. It felt perfect, but it was ingrained in his mind that getting something good like this meant that he'd have to return the favour, and more. He swallowed and spread his legs slowly, tilting his hips up so that he was completely exposed for Draco.

Draco sat back, looking down at the beautiful man spread for him. This was where it mattered that he be in control, where he had to remember that this was not about him. He moved, crawling up beside Harry and leaning over to kiss him gently.

Harry was surprised by the kiss, pulling back a little to look at Draco. "You don't ... want to?" he asked, closing his legs and leaning in to kiss him again.

The bulge in Draco's trousers was quite obvious. "This is your birthday," he said softly. "This is about your pleasure."

"But, isn't that uncomfortable?" Harry asked softly, gesturing at Draco's crotch. "Let me?"

"You want to watch me?" Draco teased, reaching down to unbutton his trousers.

Harry blushed hard. "I thought you'd want me to take care of it."

Draco pushed his own trousers and shorts down his hips, his cock springing up, full and leaking. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the shaft, gasping.

Harry looked away quickly, thinking that it wasn't okay to look. He could hear Draco gasping, though, and it only made Harry want to take care of him.

"Watch me, beautiful," Draco panted, stroking himself. "I want you to see how much you please me."

Harry bit his lip, but glanced back over, just because Draco told him to.

"Can you see how much pleasuring you pleases me?" Draco gasped, hand moving faster.

Harry was chewing on his lip in thought, but he nodded, looking down to watch Draco's hand move. This was so strange, just watching this.

"Yes, yes, oh, Harry," Draco chanted and then he arched, coming into his own hand, body shaking and eyes closing in his rapture.

Harry flinched a little, but didn't look away, his eyes a little wide. He had come to think of that moment when someone came as ugly, but he had never seen anything as beautiful as the look on Draco's face just then.

Draco lay gasping, grey eyes opening as he smiled up at him. "You okay?" he managed breathlessly.

Harry nodded slowly, eyes still wide as he looked at Draco's face.

Draco Summoned his wand, cleaning them both. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry admitted softly, blushing again. "Felt good." He felt proud of himself for going through with it all, not backing out.

Draco stripped the rest of the way, pulling the blankets up over them and wrapping his arms about Harry. "Happy birthday," he whispered.

"Thank you," Harry replied, sighing softly and closing his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like that? Smirks.


	16. Unthinkable

Draco happily buttered toast for both of them and set it onto the plates. Tea was already on the table where Harry was sitting. An owl tapped on the window with their morning copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry picked up his toast and began to quietly munch on it, glancing over at the window when he heard the owl. He shook his head and looked away. He missed Hedwig.

Draco went to the window and collected the paper from the owl, feeding it a treat and putting the payment in the pouch for it. He sat down at the table and sipped his tea, opening the paper.

The headline read: "McLaggen Claims Imperiused, Not Really a Death Eater."

Draco frowned and began reading, nibbling his toast as he did. The article explained how recently captured Death Eater, Cormac McLaggen, claimed he had been under Imperius during Voldemort's reign, forced to do things against his will that he would never have done otherwise.

Harry curiously leaned over to get a glimpse of the paper like he did every morning, but today was different. He recognised the name on the page. Cormac McLaggen. Harry dropped his toast and went still, memories flooding his mind all at once, his body then beginning to shiver violently.

Draco was caught up in the paper, unaware of Harry's reaction.

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them tightly, biting his lip hard. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, shaking and rocking.

Draco looked up and his eyes widened when he saw the other man. "Harry?" he said, getting to his feet and moving to him.

Harry cringed away, shaking his head quickly a few times. He was panting and his stomach felt sick.

"Oh, Harry," Draco got to one knee beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Hurts," Harry whispered, still not opening his eyes yet.

"I'm right here, Harry," Draco soothed. "No one will hurt you."

"No, please," Harry continued, begging with whoever was hurting him in his mind. "Please!"

"Who are you afraid of Harry?" Draco urged, hoping to find out what had happened.

Harry shivered and shook his head again. "McLaggen," he finally whispered.

"McLaggen hurt you?" Draco asked, wishing he could reach for Harry now but not wanting to scare him. He was close in case the man wanted him.

Harry nodded slowly, shame colouring his face once he finally opened his eyes.

"He can't hurt you now," Draco said firmly.

McLaggen definitely couldn't hurt Harry, especially now that he was found and put in Azkaban for what he had done. But Harry was still feeling really shaky after only remembering. He shook his head and looked away, chewing on his bottom lip.

Draco tentatively reached his hands out to take Harry's hands in his. "I'm right here, Harry, talk to me," he whispered.

Harry shook his head again, not wanting to talk about anything with Draco. Maybe it was better than he didn't know about what had happened after all, so that his view of Harry wouldn't change.

"I want to help you, Harry," Draco whispered. "I know you think I won't understand, but I will."

"I don't want you to know," Harry said softly, still not able to look at Draco.

"Look at me, please," Draco asked, hands squeezing Harry's. "I understand about doing things ... things you regret and things that make you feel ashamed ....” The blond's face flushed with his own memories.

"I ... I begged for it," Harry whispered, slowly looking over at Draco. His eyes welled up with tears as he spoke. "All the time. I wanted it ... I needed it."

Draco went still for a moment. He really hadn't expected that. "For them to hurt you?" he asked.

Harry nodded, his tears beginning to fall. It was all the same to him now. "To use me ... fuck me," he whispered, pulling his hands out of Draco's and covering his face.

"Why?" Draco asked, hand trembling as he reached to rub Harry's back, trying to keep soothing contact with the man. He had to be misunderstanding what Harry was saying. It didn't make sense.

"Because I'm a slut," Harry sobbed, shaking hard.

Draco really doubted that Harry had wanted what they had done to him. "I spent years at school with you, Harry," he said. "You were never like that."

"You can't be too sure of that," Harry pointed out, sniffling and looking at him, his eyes red and puffy. "You didn't really know me, right?" But, of course, Harry really wasn't like that in school, and he never was. He was still a virgin when he had been captured.

"I knew you a lot better than you realised," Draco huffed.

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm a whore now," Harry insisted, miserable and feeling sick with it.

"You had no choice," Draco said firmly. "A whore gets paid. A slut wants it."

"They let me come when I was good, so I wanted it," Harry whispered. "And I got food. That's a payment."

"That's survival," Draco said, face grim with the realisation of what he was hearing.

Harry shook his head, not believing him. "I begged him to fuck me the first time," he whispered.

"When you were first captured?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded, swallowing against the lump that was forming in his throat again at the memory of that night.

"Do you remember why?" Draco asked, trying to remember that his professional obligation was to get Harry to talk, to get this out, no matter how much it twisted in his guts to ask these things.

"Because I wanted it," Harry said. "I wanted it so badly ... and it hurt so much."

"It hurt? Was it something you had felt before?" Draco had a dawning realisation of what had happened now.

"I ... I never had sex before him," Harry murmured, misunderstanding Draco's question.

Draco frowned, upset anew on Harry's behalf. Rape was bad enough without it being Harry's first time. It took a minute to get control of himself to continue. "Had you ever felt that kind of need before?"

"No, not like that," Harry said. "It was like I ... needed to be touched or it hurt. But it always hurt, always. I don't remember the pain ... ever stopping." Harry shuddered and closed his eyes.

"Pain like that isn't natural," Draco insisted. "Did they give you a potion or cast a spell on you before this happened?"

"He let me have some strawberries," Harry said quietly, remembering as he spoke. "And then ... I think it was wine."

"I think I know the potion they used. Did it feel like you had to be touched or you would die?" Draco asked, his own body tensing in memory of the sensation as well.

Harry nodded, resting his chin on the top of his knees. "It only went away when I came ... and even that was painful."

"It sounds like _Myrrha's Bane_. That potion would make anyone beg, Harry," Draco said. "You can't hold yourself responsible for anything you did after they gave it to you."

"Potion or not, I still went through it all. I still had to feel and hear everything," Harry said. "Every single word."

"What happened to you is beyond horrible," Draco said. "It was not your fault."

And with that ... Harry was done. He shook his head and tightened the arms around his legs. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay," Draco said. "It was brave of you to tell me about it. What do you want? Can I do anything to make you feel better at the moment?"

Harry tensed, then finally realising Draco meant it. "Hold me?" Harry said softly, looking imploringly at Draco.

Draco smiled. "Gladly," he said, wrapping his arms around Harry, one hand cupping the back of his head.

"And a kiss," Harry added, just curling up in Draco's arms.

"My pleasure," Draco whispered, letting his lips caress the other man's, fingers softly carding through Harry's long hair.

Harry pulled back after a moment and rested his head on Draco's shoulder. "I like the kisses," he whispered.

"I am glad," Draco said. "I like them too."

"I like them a lot," Harry sighed, closing his eyes and yawning.

"Tired so early?" Draco said. They had just had breakfast.

Harry blushed and shrugged. Talking about what had happened to him always tired him out quickly. "I'm fine."

"Want to sit on the sofa with me and just read?" Draco asked. Though he meant snuggle, not just read.

"Okay, but not the newspaper," Harry said, glancing in fear at the paper on the table as if it would bite him.

***

Harry had been left chained all day and no one had even touched him, no matter how much he begged. They laughed when he did and walked just out of reach. He looked up when another person walked into the cold room, and Harry immediately reached out for him, even though he didn't know who it was. "Please," he whispered automatically, needing to be touched.

"You want something, whore?" the man asked, contempt in his voice.

Harry shifted and laid down on his back, opening his legs as wide as he could for the man, his thighs trembling. "Please fuck me. I’ll do anything."

The man laughed, shaking his head. He cast the spell and grabbed the end of the chain. "Eventually, if you do what you are told," he said. "Right now, you are mine for the night."

"McLaggen," someone said, "playing with the dog?"

The Death Eater laughed. "Yeah, my reward," McLaggen gruffed in return.

Harry looked up in confusion. It wasn't until he heard the name that he recognised his old Housemate, Cormac McLaggen. He couldn't see well without his glasses but he squinted up at him. He wanted to believe another Gryffindor wouldn't be part of this, wouldn't be a Death Eater. But his father had believed that and Pettigrew had betrayed him.

McLaggen yanked on the chain. "Come on," he snapped.

Harry had to move to get on his hands and knees so he could follow. It was difficult, because he felt so weak and shaky, from both the constant pain and not eating properly. "Can I get food, too?" he asked quietly.

"You'll get nothing if you piss me off," McLaggen barked.

Harry sniffled and looked down. He was constantly hungry and sore, but there was nothing for it but to do whatever they told him to do. The man led him to one of the rooms in the old castle and then locked the door behind him.

Harry heard a whimpering sound and looked up to find a girl in Muggle clothing chained to a bedpost. He was confused, but didn't ask questions about why there was another person here.

"You want something, dog?" McLaggen sneered at him.

Harry flinched and looked down. He did want something, but he found that asking rarely helped. "Fuck me, please," he begged anyway.

McLaggen laughed and gestured. "Do her first," he ordered.

Harry looked up at the girl again, not sure of what the man meant. He looked around to McLaggen and crawled over to him, reaching out to touch him. "Fuck me."

"Rape the girl or suffer until you do. Rape her and you get to come, and even eat, afterwards," McLaggen sneered.

It was the thought of food that made Harry turn back to crawl over to the girl, looking up at her. "I’ve never," he whispered, looking back at McLaggen.

"Hurt her or you suffer," McLaggen added.

"She's tied up," Harry said, moving to slowly stand up, even though he felt shaky.

"So?" McLaggen snorted.

"Then how do I do it?" Harry mumbled.

"You rip her fucking clothes off and fuck her," McLaggen sneered. "Even you can't be that stupid, Potter."

Harry flinched again and looked at the girl, biting his lip at the look on her face. "I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching to take off her clothes somehow.

"No, please, let me go home," the girl begged. She looked younger than Harry and had soft brown hair.

Harry stepped back, tears running down his own face. "I can't," he said, looking back towards McLaggen. "Please don't make me .... "

"Do it – or I will, and then I will slit her throat while you watch," McLaggen growled.

Harry reached to try to pull her clothes off. He pushed her shirt up until it bunched around her hands and then, his own hands shaking, pulled her skirt and then her knickers down to her ankles, kneeling to pull them the rest of the way off. She struggled and cried, pleading with him to stop. "I c-can't," Harry stammered again.

MacLaggen held up a knife, turning it so that it caught the firelight.

Harry reached out, trying to hold her hips and press his cock between her legs. "So sorry," he sobbed, even as the pain lessened a little from touching her.

She screamed, crying now. "No, no!"

McLaggen laughed.

Harry gritted his teeth, thrusting several times between her legs until he found the right angle. He felt a slick warmth and the need in his body was muted by the pleasure of that. He began to thrust, saying that he was sorry over and over, even as he did it. She struggled the entire time, yelling at him to stop. But his body felt such relief at the contact that it was hard to know how to feel.

Harry tried to remind himself that he was only hard because of the potion. It was definitely not because of the girl screaming and struggling to get away. He just wanted it to be over with, but he knew that he couldn't stop until McLaggen told him, since he couldn't come with the spell.

McLaggen stepped up behind him, grabbing Harry's arse even as he thrust into the girl. The touch surprised him, but Harry didn't stop moving. Then he felt McLaggen's cock rubbing against his arse. The man only took a minute to position himself and then he shoved roughly into Harry's body.

Harry cried out in pain, gripping the girl's hips tighter without realising he was. McLaggen began thrusting hard, pounding into Harry. Harry couldn't even move his hips like before, McLaggen's thrusts taking over everything. McLaggen fucked him so hard it was brutal even compared to what Harry had experienced so far. He felt his body being torn and the girl was bouncing against the bedpost, moaning in pain. Finally, McLaggen grunted, shoving deep, then withdrew and stepped back.

Harry was shaking hard as he slipped out, covering his face in shame. He couldn't look at the girl and see what he had done, so he ended up falling to his knees and then onto his side, curling up and trembling. "Can I come, please," he whispered, swallowing with difficulty against the lump in his throat.

"Not yet," McLaggen snapped and then picked up a knife, smiling.

"I did it, though," Harry pleaded, not wanting anything else to happen to the girl and desperate for his own relief.

McLaggen ignored Harry, stepping toward the girl who, when she saw the knife, began screaming again.

"No, wait," Harry said, pushing himself up and moving over to where McLaggen was. "I did it ... please don't .... "

"Shut up, dog," McLaggen sneered and raised the knife, drawing it down the woman's back.

"Stop it," Harry said, disobeying him for the first time and standing up so he could try to push the other man away. "Leave her alone."

McLaggen slammed Harry with his fist, sending the smaller man to the floor with the blow.

Harry grunted and turned over, still pushing himself back up. "You have me ... leave her," he said. "I'll do anything."

McLaggen sliced another long line down the girl's back as she wept and screamed, pulling at the chains and trying again to free herself.

"Please stop," Harry said, forcing himself to get up again. It was one thing to be hurt, but it was another to have to just sit by and watch someone else get hurt like this. He grabbed McLaggen's arm and tried to pull him away. McLaggen punched him squarely in the face this time, blood spurting from Harry's nose and his world spinning. Harry fell back again and stayed down this time, a hand pressed against his nose.

McLaggen laughed and continued slicing the girl's flesh.

Harry panted through his mouth and slowly lay down on his side again, turned away so he wouldn't have to see them. He could feel his nose beginning to swell and he knew McLaggen had broken it.

The girl's screaming grew more ragged and then stopped, the quiet eerie after so much noise. Now the only thing Harry could hear was McLaggen panting.

Harry still wouldn't look to see if the girl was okay, too scared of what he'd see. The blood was smeared over Harry's face as he tried to wipe it away, but more continued to leak out.

"On your hands and knees, dog," McLaggen insisted, kicking him.

Harry slowly pushed himself up on his hands and knees, one hand still cupped over his nose. McLaggen was behind him again, shoving in for the second time that night and Harry grunted, too unsteady on one hand to keep himself up. McLaggen fucked him again, slower this time, but still roughly, his fingers digging into Harry's hips. Harry fell forward after a few thrusts, his cheek pressed against the floor as he moved. He gave up on cupping his now very swollen nose and just let the blood run, only hoping that he wouldn't somehow die from this. Or maybe it would've been better to.

McLaggen finished a second time and then withdrew, getting to his feet again.

Harry fell on his side once more and curled up the best he could, trying to ignore the pain that was coming from not only his lower half, but from everywhere. "Can I come, please?" he pleaded, his voice sounding nasally.

McLaggen laughed and cast the spell that briefly released the constriction around Harry's cock.

Harry came painfully like he always did, screaming in his relief. He had a good few minutes to himself before the potion began to work him into yet another erection. He heard McLaggen moving about in the room behind him.

"Can I get food, too?" Harry asked, panting from where he lay. "Please?"

"Sure," and a leg of chicken fell on the floor near Harry's face.

Harry reached for it and ate it quickly, pushing away the bone when he was done. He wanted more, but he didn't think he'd get any. "Can I get more?" he asked softly, taking a chance.

"Look at her," McLaggen said bluntly.

Harry sniffled and slowly turned over to where the girl was, blinking open his eyes. She still hung there. McLaggen had left her face intact, but not much below her neck. More meat than flesh showed now and there was a large pool of blood below. Harry gasped and covered his mouth, moving away as quickly as he could, his stomach lurching painfully. He couldn't bear to see anymore and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep his food down.

"Still hungry?" Cormac taunted.

Harry let out a soft sob and turned away, the image burned into his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To have survived so much...


	17. Submerged

That night Draco lay in the bed, arms around the sleeping man snuggled against his chest. He replayed the night of Harry's birthday over and over again in his mind, remembering the taste of Harry. He realised it had become his favourite memory and one that comforted him as well as aroused.

Despite going to bed in a somewhat good mood, snuggled up with Draco, Harry found himself in the middle of a nightmare. He was back in the dungeons where he was being kept, his arms chained to the walls. He screamed to be let free, but they never ever listened.

Draco felt Harry's body tense and his hands clutching at him, digging into his arms. "Harry," he gasped, "wake up."

Harry shuddered, but couldn't pull himself out of the dream, trying to push himself away from Draco once he heard his voice.

"Harry, it's me, Draco," the blond continued, letting Harry push him away, but staying close.

Harry rolled over and curled up into a ball, trembling hard as he gasped.

Draco laid a hand on Harry's back rubbing it in soft circles. He just kept repeating that he was there and hoped Harry would hear him.

Harry jerked, his eyes snapping open in fear. "Don't," he whispered, moving away; he was so close to the edge that he almost fell off the bed.

Draco removed his hand from Harry, fingers curling in frustration. He hated seeing the man suffer and wanted to do something to help. "Are you awake now?"

Harry felt bad on days like this, when he woke up with Draco having to calm him down. What made it worse was that his pyjamas were soiled. Again. "I'm sorry, Draco," he said softly, turning over to look at him.

"I am here to take care of you," Draco said. Harry had wet both himself and the bed. "Do you want to take a bath while I clean up?"

Harry bit his lip and nodded, quickly getting off of the bed and hurrying out of the room, not looking at Draco again. In the bathroom, Harry closed the door behind him and stood there for a moment, swallowing hard and glancing at the bath. He pulled his clothes off and left them in a pile by the door before he walked over to the bath and put in the plug, glancing back at the door quickly. He turned the tap on and let the tub fill with warm water, stepping inside and laying down while continuing to let it fill up.

Draco used Cleaning Charms on the bed and then got a new pair of pyjamas out for Harry. He went to the bathroom door and knocked. "Harry? Mind if I come in?"

Harry shivered, sinking down into the water so that it reached his chin. He looked at the door when he heard Draco and reached to turn off the tap. Taking a deep breath and squeezing his nose shut, Harry began sinking down into the water.

Draco knocked again, but frowned when he didn't hear an answer, so he opened the door. Harry was still under the water, his eyes closed. Draco came in, put the lid down and sat down on the toilet, watching the man in the bath.

Harry didn't come up when Draco walked into the room, but he finally let go of his nose, his hand sinking more along with his body.

Draco waited, watching the man under the water.

Harry's lungs burned for oxygen, but he didn't pull himself back up, even though his body began to fight against it.

Draco frowned. He didn't think Harry could actually drown himself this way, but it was still difficult to watch. "Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry heard Draco's voice and he waited another long moment before he reached up and gripped the side of the bath, using it to pull himself up. He breathed in deeply, his eyes closed as he caught his breath.

Draco knelt beside the bath and reached a hand out to cup Harry's chin. "Harry," he whispered.

Harry didn't open his eyes for Draco to show that he heard him, only reaching down to pull the plug out of the drain.

"Harry, you are okay. You are safe," Draco said softly, stroking Harry's cheek.

Harry nodded stiffly and stood up, stepping out of the tub. He wrapped his arms around himself, waiting for Draco to give him a towel.

Draco grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Harry, starting to dry him. He didn't know what the dream had been about, but he was worried about the extreme reaction. He wondered if it were related to what Harry had told him about McLaggen.

Harry looked off to the side as Draco dried his body, thinking of what Draco would've done if he had really managed to do what he was trying to do in the bath.

Draco finished drying Harry and then helped dress him in the clean pyjamas. He led him back to the room, still trying to think of a way to get Harry to talk about it.

Harry sat back down on the bed before lying down, reaching for the pillow and holding it close, squeezing it.

Draco sat beside him, gently caressing his hair. "Do you want to tell me?"

Harry shook his head, giving him a look that showed he wasn't even sure what Draco wanted to know.

Draco sighed and lay down beside him in the bed, head propped up on one hand. "The nightmare was a bad one," he said softly. "Do you remember what it was about?'

Harry squeezed his pillow tighter for a moment before he nodded, remembering.

"Do you feel up to talking about it?" Draco asked again.

Harry coughed and shook his head, his eyes closing. "I was in a dungeon," he said very quietly a moment later.

"Yes, from before?" Draco prompted.

"Yes," Harry whispered, squeezing the pillow again. "Alone."

Draco waited, nodding to him to encourage him.

"I was alone ... and it all hurt so much," Harry continued. "I think that's why they always left me alone ....”

"To make it hurt more," Draco whispered, nodding. His own body shivered and he pushed back his feelings to focus on Harry.

Harry nodded, sniffling a little. "To make me want them more."

"Yes, using _Myrrha's Bane_ , that potion, to torment you," he said, "so you would do what they wanted. It's why they use it."

Harry sighed, slowly opening his eyes. They looked haunted. "Always ....” he whispered.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Draco reminded him. "You did what you needed to do to survive."

"I know," Harry replied softly, still not all that convinced.

Draco flushed looking down. "Even without a potion like that ... sometimes a person ... does whatever they have to," he admitted.

"Just to live," Harry whispered, glancing at Draco.

"Yes, or ... because they don't know differently," he added, remembering his own youth. "I am glad you survived, Harry. I am glad that no matter what they did, you didn't let them destroy you."

"But they did," Harry said, biting down on his lip and beginning to shake again. "They did."

Draco reached a trembling hand to gently stroke Harry's face. "No, you killed most of them and you are here," he whispered. "Here, with me," he added, unprofessional as it was. But then, this case had never been about work for him.

Harry just shook his head, blinking as yet another tear ran down his cheek. "But I'll never be the same."

"No, you won't," Draco agreed, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "But no one is ever the same, Harry. You can still heal and move on with your life."

"I hate being like this," Harry whimpered, finally moving closer and curling up against Draco. "So weak."

"You are hurt and need care until you are well again," Draco soothed, petting him as he did. "But you are not weak. Weak would have meant you gave up and died. You didn't."

Harry sniffled, leaning in to rub his face against Draco's chest. He was weak. He was nothing like he was before, and there was probably no way that he ever could be.

Draco kissed the top of the man's head, petting and murmuring soothing sounds to him. It felt so very good to hold Harry, to comfort him, and that almost made Draco feel guilty. He _wanted_ to be here with Harry, he felt like he needed him as well.

Eventually Harry calmed down, feeling as though his tears had all just dried up and no more could come out. He continued to lie against Draco, though, not feeling tired, but not wanting to move just yet. "Draco?"

"Yes, Harry," Draco encouraged, holding him close, face pressed against the man's dark hair.

"Can I get a kiss?" he asked softly, needing the small show of affection.

"Yes," Draco whispered, his heart speeding up as he lowered his mouth to Harry's, lips caressing the other man's gently.

Harry kissed back softly for a few moments, reaching up to touch Draco's cheek. It was times like these that Harry thought of how life would've been different if he were normal, and he and Draco were ... together. He pulled away and shook his head, quietly telling himself that that would never happen. "Thanks."

Draco wanted more, of course, and was disappointed when Harry pulled away. "Harry," he whispered, trembling a little at the soft touch that had caused such heat in his body.

Harry felt the tremble and he knew what Draco was feeling just from the change in his voice. "Let me," he whispered, reaching down to hook his fingers in Draco's pyjama bottoms and begin to tug them down.

"No," Draco said softly, "you don't have to do that." Thoughts of confessing his feelings tumbled in his mind but he knew it wasn't right to burden Harry with his own needs.

Harry felt he did need to, after everything he was putting Draco through already. It wasn't fair to him. "I want to," he said, moving down Draco's body.

Draco's body was willing, but after all the abuse Harry had suffered, he didn't want him to think that this was about sex for him. "I don't want you doing it because you think you owe me something," Draco said, tugging the bottoms back up.

"But I want to," Harry begged, swallowing and looking up at Draco. "Please."

There was something strange about the way Harry was begging. "Harry, look at me," Draco insisted.

Harry slowly looked up at Draco, blinking at him. "I just want to make you feel good."

"I feel good being with you," Draco said. "And yes, I do find you attractive. But it is important to me that if I do have sex with someone that it be because they want me, care about me, not because they think they owe me or something like that."

Harry licked his dry lips and blushed. "You think I'm attractive?" he asked abruptly, as if he didn't hear another word that Draco had said.

Draco blinked in surprise. He would have thought his erection implied that, but then he remembered that the Death Eaters had been aroused by Harry's pain, not necessarily by _him_. "Yes, I do," he admitted, his own face slowly turning pink.

Harry blushed harder, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion at the same time. "Why?"

Draco tried to think of how to describe why he found Harry attractive and his cock twitched as if to have a say as well. The blond looked into those wide green eyes and was at a loss for where to begin. "Which part?" he asked lamely.

"There are ... different parts?" Harry asked, sounding surprised.

Draco closed his eyes, realising he had strayed way into dangerous territory. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Well, there are the purely physical parts and there is, well, you."

"Me ....” Harry repeated, trying to understand exactly how this was possible. The purely physical parts he could understand ... like his mouth and other places that were good for sex. Or so he understood.

Draco opened his eyes and smiled warmly as he looked into Harry's. "Yes, you," he whispered. "Like your eyes. That was one of the first things I ever noticed about you. They are so bright and clear and beautiful."

Harry looked away when he said that, feeling a little embarrassed. "They're just green."

Draco smiled fondly at him. "And that thick, soft, dark hair," he continued, reaching to touch it.

"I like your hair," Harry admitted quietly, reaching out to touch Draco's. "I'd always wondered if it was soft or not."

Draco loved that gentle caress, breath catching a bit. "Your body is gorgeous, too, and will be even more so once you start taking care of yourself again," he continued.

"I'm trying," Harry whispered, pulling his hand back and feeling as though Draco's words were a bit of criticism.

"You are so beautiful, Harry," Draco insisted, reaching to stroke his cheek again.

"I just don't see how, Draco," Harry whispered, shrugging. "Maybe one day I will."

"I hope so," Draco answered, leaning in to kiss his forehead. He lay back holding Harry and thinking about all the other things that had drawn him to the other man, even when they were boys. He had hated Harry at times, but he had never been able to ignore him, always strove to get his attention in a way that perplexed everyone around them. It wasn't just a physical attraction, but he didn't know how to explain that, or if it was appropriate to do so when Harry didn't return his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a struggle.


	18. Off the Map

Draco had been living with Harry at Grimmauld Place for two months now. He sent reports off every week by owl to his supervisors at St Mungo’s. They were pleased with Harry's progress and so was he.

Harry was curled up at the end of the couch, quietly relaxing as he thought about several things. Flying, his magic, Draco, the _Daily Prophet_ , food, Draco. And Draco. Harry looked up when Draco walked into the room, pulling his legs closer so that the blond had room to sit down. There was one question in particular that had been bothering Harry today, and he couldn't hold it back any longer. "Draco?"

Draco smiled and sat down beside Harry on the sofa. "Yes?"

"Are we ... together?" Harry asked softly, moving in to snuggle closer to him.

Draco lifted his arm, wrapping it around Harry's shoulder. "Together?"

Harry blushed and nodded. "Like ... a couple," he clarified.

"That depends on how you feel about me, doesn't it?" Draco said, unable to stop himself and wondering where this would go.

"I like you a lot," Harry admitted softly, glancing up at Draco. "I do."

Draco smiled at him. "But is what you feel for me because I am taking care of you, or more?"

"Both ... and a lot more," Harry whispered, looking a little nervous.

"More than a friend?" Draco asked, his heart speeding up with a hope he tried to quash.

Harry nodded and blushed a little harder. "I think about you a lot."

Draco's eyes widened. "What do you think about me?"

"I think about how happy you make me feel," Harry said softly, reaching for one of Draco's hands. "How you help me get past my problems .... I know that's what you're supposed to do, but then again, there were a lot of other Healers that were supposed to do the same."

Draco took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, just letting Harry talk.

"I think about ... how you look when you sleep. You always look so peaceful. I think about how you look after a shower, your hair still wet and your shirt a little damp because I know you don't like to leave me alone anymore so you rush. I think about the look on your face when you come ... wishing I ... that I was the one who made you do it," Harry whispered, staring down at their hands the entire time he spoke.

Draco's heart sped up, almost afraid to believe what he was hearing. "You think ... of me like that?"

"All the time now. I've learned to be more observant. All those months that I didn't say a word to anyone ... you think I was completely gone? I watched, I memorised, I thought ....” Harry said. "And now I watch you. I probably know ... almost all of your habits."

"You watch me in the shower?" Draco asked, realising that's what Harry had to have done to see him come like that more than the once.

Harry flushed and looked away, biting his lip hard. "I ... I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It's ... okay," Draco whispered, smiling. "So are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" He wanted to make sure Harry was clear about it before they went any further.

Harry blushed but nodded. "Yes, my boyfriend."

He sat up and pulled his arm back, looking seriously at Harry. "So I need to tell my supervisor that I am no longer going to be your Healer."

Harry didn't smile back. In fact, he looked completely devastated, his face draining of colour. "What?"

"I told you, I can't be your lover and be your Healer," Draco said, smiling slightly. "So the question is, do you still want me living here if I am not your Healer?"

"Yes." Harry couldn't imagine his life without Draco now, and he honestly wouldn't know what to do. "Does that mean I have to get another one?"

"If you keep making progress, I think all that will be needed will be to check in with St Mungo's as an outpatient until you are more fully recovered," Draco explained.

"I ... I don't know," Harry replied honestly, shrugging. "I only want you."

"Do you think you would still be willing to talk about things with your boyfriend?" Draco asked.

It confused Harry a little, because he was thinking of Draco as being one and the same person. "Um, yes."

"Then I will still be able to help you," Draco said. "I will be with you as long as you want me."

Harry nodded, reaching up and resting a hand on Draco's chest. "Yes, that's what I want."

Harry could probably feel how fast Draco's heart was beating. "You are sure?" Draco asked.

"I'm sure," Harry murmured, leaning up to gently kiss Draco's lips. "I really am."

Draco returned the kiss, heart hammering in his chest as he wrapped his arms around Harry. He knew it was what he wanted, but he still worried that Harry didn't really know what he was asking for.

Harry moved as close as he could into Draco's arms, tilting his head to the side as they kissed. He wanted to do more for Draco, he honestly did, but he wasn't sure if he was completely ready.

Draco held him close, petting Harry’s hair and humming in delight. Did this mean he could relax around Harry? The man wasn't completely well, but he was doing so much better.

"Draco," Harry whispered, pulling back a little and looking up at him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Can you ... can you show me now?"

"Anything you like," Draco answered, letting his affection and desire show.

"I'm still scared," Harry admitted quietly, reaching for Draco's hand. "But, I want to try."

"Let's go to our room," Draco said, standing up and helping Harry to his feet. He wrapped his arms around him and Apparated them to the bedroom.

Harry sat back on his bed once they got there, plucking nervously at his shirt. "Do you want to?"

Draco reached a hand out to gently caress Harry's face. "You are so beautiful. But it isn't just sex I want."

Harry still couldn't understand how he was beautiful in Draco's eyes, but he nodded anyway, wanting to please Draco. "What else do you want?"

Draco leaned over, kissing him tenderly. "I want to make love with you," he whispered.

"But isn't that sex?" Harry asked softly, blinking up at him.

"But it feels different from the kind of sex you know," Draco whispered again, laying little kisses around his lips.

"It feels good, right?" Harry's eyes slid shut as he imagined it, kissing Draco's lips whenever they touched his.

"I wouldn't do anything you didn't enjoy," Draco assured him, sitting down beside him and taking Harry into his arms.

"I know you wouldn't," Harry sighed, relaxing against him. "I do trust you."

Draco began kissing Harry’s lips again, fingers sliding through dark hair as his other hand slid down Harry's back. The blond focused on letting his feelings flow through his touch.

Harry shivered as they kissed, his back arching slightly. He had to keep telling himself that Draco wasn't here to hurt him, that he was only here to love and care for him. It helped him relax, but not completely.

Draco gently laid Harry back on the bed, continuing to kiss and lick along his chin and jaw.

Harry opened his eyes and made sure to keep them on Draco, taking deep calming breaths as he felt his heart speed up with every kiss.

Draco began undressing Harry, slowly, kissing his skin as he uncovered it. He felt like a worshipper at an altar of love.

Harry wanted to keep watching Draco, but his eyes slowly slid shut as he continued. He couldn't help but shudder when Draco reached his trousers, but he lifted his hips to help him pull them down.

Draco drew those trousers down, kissing Harry's legs as he did, but not yet touching his cock. Then he stood and stripped himself. He never took his eyes off Harry as he worked quickly.

Harry swallowed and looked up at Draco as he undressed, silently wishing that he was as beautiful as his lover.

Draco slid into bed beside Harry, taking him into his arms again to kiss and to touch him. It was beyond anything he had ever felt with anyone else before.

Harry pulled away after a moment to look into Draco's eyes, running a hand carefully down his arm. "You've ... done this before, right?"

It was a complicated question for Draco. He had had lovers before, but he had never been with anyone he was in love with. "Yes," he whispered, caressing Harry's arms and back as he held him. "I like it when you touch me," he added.

"You do?" Harry asked, moving his hand down and over Draco's hip. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"

"Anywhere you want to touch me, Harry," Draco answered, kissing along his neck.

Harry nodded and continued to stroke his fingers over Draco's hip. "Anywhere I want." He moved his hand down and over Draco's cock, wrapping his fingers around it.

Draco moaned softly at the contact, trembling. He had resisted Harry before. It felt amazing to relax and let himself be touched.

Harry had almost expected Draco to pull his hand away, as he had before; when he didn't, Harry began to stroke him, watching his face and trying his best to get another moan out of him.

Draco did moan again, pressing his face to Harry's neck as he did. "Oh, yes," he whispered.

Harry liked Draco's reactions more than anything. He gripped him tightly and quickened the strokes, using his other hand to grip Draco's hair.

"Harry," Draco whispered, panting now. Harry's fingers on him were wonderful. He licked and sucked on Harry's neck, tasting him as he was stroked.

"Draco," Harry replied softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt himself begin to harden, just from Draco licking his neck.

Draco lovingly caressed Harry's chest and then slid his hand down over his belly, petting as he went. He lowered his mouth to suck one of Harry's nipples as he gently caressed Harry's cock.

Harry went still, biting down on his lip at the first touch of Draco's hand and tongue.

Draco lifted his head, giving Harry's nipple another lick and then smiling up at him. "Roll on your side, toward me," he whispered.

Harry swallowed thickly and turned on his side so that he was facing Draco. "What're you going to do?"

Draco was only slightly taller than Harry, so he was able to move up and wrap one leg around Harry's hip, pressing them together so that their cocks would slide against each other's. He reached one hand down between them and the other to the back of Harry's head. He smiled at Harry, looking him in the eyes as he began to rub against him. He was sure that this wasn't something Harry's torturers would have done. It was too intimate and mutual.

Harry's mouth dropped open at both the strange positioning and how perfect it felt. He let out a strangled moan, his eyes closing once again. "Draco," he gasped, reaching out to grip something, anything.

"Hold me, touch me," Draco whispered as he wrapped long fingers around their erections and began to stroke and squeeze them together.

Harry gripped his shoulder just as Draco touched him, shuddering. No one else had ever touched him with good intentions, and Harry really didn't know how to react at first. But after a few moments he began to thrust into Draco's fist, his head falling back as he moaned.

"Oh, you feel so good, Harry," Draco gasped, their cocks sliding against each other.

Harry whimpered and leaned in to bury his face in Draco's neck, his fingers digging into Draco's shoulder. "You're ... better ....”

Draco pressed his face to Harry's hair, nuzzling him and inhaling his scent as he moved his hand faster.

Harry didn't know how long it was before he began to tense up, his orgasm close. He wanted it to last longer. "Draco," he whispered before biting down on his lip hard.

"Yes, Harry, let go," Draco whispered back, panting now as he got close as well.

Harry was almost afraid at first to come, remembering how painful it was when he was able to before Draco was with him. But he couldn't hold it back any longer. Harry came with a small cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he jerked.

The feeling of Harry's cock pulsing against his own, covering them both with come, was slick and hot and so amazing. Draco was only moments behind him, continuing to hold them while their seed combined. "Oh, yes," he gasped.

Harry panted softly as he slowly came down from his high, letting go of Draco's shoulder and rubbing his arm gently.

Draco kissed Harry's forehead, sighing happily and slowly releasing their softening cocks. "You okay?"

Harry nodded slowly and wrapped his arms tightly around Draco. "I liked it," he whispered.

"I want to do things that make you feel good," Draco whispered. "It amazes me how wonderful it feels to be with you."

"I want to make you feel good, too, though," Harry said softly, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I don't want it to be about just me ... it has been only about me for the past few months ....”

"That felt wonderful," Draco told him, smiling. "Couldn't you tell how much I enjoyed it?"

Harry blushed softly, but nodded. "Yes, I still wonder why."

"Sex can be good, Harry," Draco whispered, still kissing his face, "but it is a lot more than that for me. I wouldn't want to do this with anyone I didn't care about."

"I know you'll show me it can be good," Harry murmured, still unable to know if he could be sure of it just by his words.

"Anything you want, Harry," Draco whispered, reaching for his wand and cleaning them both.

"Anything I want," Harry repeated softly, closing his eyes. "I want you."

"You have me," Draco assured him, pulling the covers up and snuggling up with Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry with wants of his own...


	19. Irregular

Draco collected the morning mail and the paper from the owl, sitting down at the breakfast table with Harry. He was still smiling happily, thinking about the new touching they had done, but his smile fell when he saw the official-looking envelope in the mail – the crest of St Mungo's on the seal.

Harry was reaching for a piece of a toast when he saw the look on Draco's face. "What's wrong?" he asked, as he took a bite out of the bread.

Draco blinked and then worked to control his face, trying to appear unconcerned. "Oh, probably nothing. I did send the letter to my supervisors letting them know they had to assign you to a new Healer," he said. He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, scanning it quickly.

Harry watched him as he continued to eat, finishing his toast while he waited to hear what was said in the letter.

"It's my supervisors at St Mungo's," Draco explained. "They want me to bring you in for an evaluation of your progress and to find you a new Healer if needed." He didn't add that they also wanted to "review" Draco's performance with Harry.

Harry frowned a little, but nodded, knowing that it would probably happen anyway. "I don't like being there," he said softly, sighing. "But I won't have to stay in St Mungo’s again, right?"

Draco very much hoped that his supervisors wouldn't interfere. Yet, this was an expected reaction to his withdrawal from the case, especially when they found out he planned to continue living with Harry. "I think they will be pleased with the progress you have made," he told Harry.

Harry smiled a little, liking the words he heard coming from the other man. Still, he couldn't help but worry that the other Healers wouldn't feel the same. "Do we have to go? When?"

"Tomorrow," Draco said. He reached a hand out to take Harry's. "You just need to talk to the Healer they assign for the evaluation. The fact that you are able to do that is a big step from before."

"I'll have to talk about that stuff again?" Harry asked, frowning and beginning to fidget.

Draco paused, trying to imagine what his supervisors would be most concerned with. "I don't know if you will have to talk about the past this time, but they might ask. They will want to know that you understand where you are now."

Harry nodded, but he was still worried. "Okay," he said, reaching for another piece of toast. He put it on Draco's plate and pushed it towards him.

Draco chuckled. "All right, I can take a hint," he said, reaching to butter the toast. He was nervous about the evaluations, but he also knew it was necessary.

Draco spent most of the day getting his notes in order so that he would be able to present the case for review. He still slept in Harry's bed that night, holding him, but was uncomfortably aware of the way he had crossed the line. He had even altered some portions of his notes from those he would be showing his supervisor. He had removed any references to Harry's attempts to "thank him" with sex and his request for Draco to "show him" sex could feel good.

***

Now they were getting ready for the trip to St Mungo's. Draco pulled out his green Healer's robes, frowning as he wondered if he would ever wear them again.

Harry pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was nervous. He still wasn't sure of what the supervisor was going to ask him and it made him scared, since she was the one who could make him stay in the hospital again. He didn’t think he could handle that.

Draco tried to smile reassuringly, handing Harry Floo powder when they stood in front of the fireplace. "You go through first?" he suggested.

"Can't you go with me?" Harry asked, taking the Floo powder from him.

"I will be right behind you," Draco assured him. "But it might help show them you are doing better if you can Floo on your own."

Harry bit his lip, but nodded, picking up some of the powder in his hand. He turned to the fire and threw it in and then clearly said the name of the hospital. Taking a deep breath, Harry then stepped into the green flames.

Draco did the same, following close enough behind that he had to be careful not to trip over Harry when he arrived.

"Now where do we go?" Harry asked Draco, staying closer to the other man.

Draco had to resist the urge to reach for Harry's hand. He led the way to the lift and took them up to the fourth floor.

Harry clasped his hands in front of him as he walked, curiously looking around the halls. It was strange to be back here again. He wondered if he'd see his old room.

Healer Rodgers met them just outside the reception area for the ward. "Healer Malfoy, Mr Potter," she acknowledged, nodding to both of them. She held out a hand to Harry and Draco knew she was testing him already.

"Hello," Harry greeted, looking at her hand before reaching out tentatively to shake it.

She smiled at him. "It's very nice to see you, Mr Potter," she said. Another Healer stepped up beside her and she gestured. "This is Healer Dodson. She is going to be evaluating you today."

Harry gave them a small smile and nodded, trying not to let her see how nervous he was feeling and mess everything up.

Healer Dodson held out her hand, too. "I am glad I get to speak with you, Mr Potter. Will you come sit and talk with me?"

"Okay," Harry answered, taking her hand and gently shaking it before pulling his hand back. He glanced nervously at Draco, waiting for Dodson to show him where they were going. He didn’t like being away from Draco.

Draco was glad to see Harry responding well. He smiled reassuringly at him. “You will do fine,” he told him.

Healer Dodson led Harry to a small room with a couple of chairs and a sofa. "Make yourself comfortable, Mr Potter. Can I call you Harry?"

Harry gave Draco one more look before he followed the woman inside, glancing around the small room. "You can," he answered quietly, sitting down on the sofa he saw.

She sat on one of the chairs, quill and paper on a small table nearby. "I hope you don't mind, but we always start with simple questions and then work our way to more complex ones. Especially given that during your last evaluation you didn't answer any of them."

"Sorry," Harry said, folding his legs up underneath him comfortably. He realized that this was the first time that he was speaking to someone alone without Draco around in a very long time. He didn't know what to think about that.

She asked him his name, age, the year and other general questions at first, smiling as she took notes. "So how do you feel you are doing, Harry?"

"I think I'm doing okay," Harry told her, pushing his hair away from his face.

"Tell me about that, Harry. Maybe you could describe what your life has been like since you moved back home," she suggested.

Harry nodded slightly and thought about what to say. "When I first got back I was scared," he admitted quietly, looking over at the woman as he spoke. "Since it had been so long. But I managed to adjust ... and it got better."

"Harry, I need to you be more specific," she said. "Do you still have nightmares? What is your daily life like? What do you do with your time now? As much as you can tell me about your life on an average day."

"Sometimes I still do have them," Harry answered, looking down at his lap as he tried to explain better. "Now I just ... I wake up, Draco and I have breakfast, sometimes I read. Sometimes we talk. Or go for walks."

"What do you talk about?" Dodson asked.

Harry shrugged and ran a hand through his hair as he thought. He wasn't sure of what was right to say and what wasn't. "Sometimes we talk about the dreams I have. Only when I want to, though."

"Can you tell me about your dreams?" Dodson asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry mumbled, biting his lip. "Most of them are just memories of what they were doing to me." He felt his chest tighten and his body begin to shake. So he focused on the image of Draco. Draco was nearby, he reminded himself.

"Such as ...."

Harry shook his head, not wanting to start thinking about it yet again. "Do I have to?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

"Not today," she said with a sigh. "But you are aware that Healer Malfoy has asked to be taken off your case, right?"

"Yes, I know," Harry said, hoping he hadn't disappointed the woman.

"Do you know why?" she asked.

"Do you?" Harry asked in reply.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you upset with him?"

"No," Harry answered, shaking his head. He was anything but angry with Draco. He could never be.

"So what reason did he give you?"

"He told me that we were friends now. Close friends. He can't be my therapist and my friend, so he decided to be taken off the case," Harry answered quietly. It was true, he thought, even if it wasn’t the whole answer.

"You knew him before he became your Healer, didn't you? How did you feel about him before?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't like him," Harry said, thinking about his days in Hogwarts with Draco. "Things have changed now, though."

"Do you feel you are well enough to live without in-home supervision?" Dodson asked.

"Yes. I don't want to live alone, though. I think I could do it, but ... if I had the choice, I don't want to be alone," Harry said honestly, looking up at her.

"What do you expect to happen, then? Won't Malfoy have to go back to work as a Healer if you aren't his patient?" she asked.

"He's staying with me, though," Harry murmured softly.

Dodson looked surprised, taking notes for a moment. "I need to know if you are going to be able to continue your treatment as an outpatient, Harry. Do you think you will be able to talk with me each week?"

"I can do that," Harry said with a small nod, sitting up a little straighter when he realised that this meant the session was over.

***

Draco watched Harry go with Dodson. He hoped that Harry would do well with her. He didn’t think Harry would tell about their relationship, but he worried that if the other Healer pushed him too hard, he might relapse.

Healer Rodgers led him into her office and had him take a seat while she sat behind her cluttered desk. Draco didn’t know how she managed to find anything in the mess.

“Your reports have been very encouraging, Draco,” she began. “So you can understand my surprise when you asked to be removed from the case.”

“I have been clear from the onset that I didn’t feel it was appropriate to assign this case to me,” Draco replied, leaning back in the chair and trying to look calmer than he felt.

“Yet, you have managed to help Potter when no one else could,” she pointed out. “Why withdraw now when what you have been doing is actually working?”

Draco pursed his lips. “I intend to stay on at Potter’s house as a caregiver, not as his Healer,” he explained.

Rodgers frowned at that. “What about your work?”

“I will be taking an indefinite leave,” Draco responded.

His supervisor sat forward, leaning on her desk. “I don’t understand your reasoning here, Draco. You get paid to take care of the patient now. Why not continue as his Healer if you will still be there?”

“That’s exactly it. I don’t want to be paid to take care of Potter,” he said. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his robes. “I am too close to this case. I always was. I’ll continue to help Harry, but as his friend, not his Healer.”

“That’s most irregular, Draco,” Rodgers insisted. “You have been his Healer, so you already have a patient-therapist relationship with him.”

Draco clenched a hand on the arm of his chair. “This entire case has been irregular,” he snapped. “I was never an objective person in this and you well know that. I made my objections clear even then.”

She seemed to recoil a bit from the heat in his voice, shaking her head. “I can see this is personal for you. Maybe you should come back to work and not continue any of Potter’s care.”

“No,” Draco said, jaw set.

“Healer Malfoy,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t condone you living with the patient if you are not under the supervision of this hospital.”

“He won’t be my patient,” Draco insisted. “I will be there as … his friend. And Harry can come in for therapy as needed.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Draco, and you know it. We can’t have our Healers in unprofessional relationships with the patients .…”

Draco’s temper flared and he scowled at the woman. “Now you say that, but when _I_ raised that objection, I was told that anything that would help Harry was more important than the hospital rules!”

“Calm down, Malfoy,” Rodgers insisted, holding up a hand.

Draco had risen halfway up from his seat, but forced himself to sit back down and take several deep breaths.

They were both quiet for a minute, and finally Rodgers shook her head and sighed. “I will have to bring this up at the staff meeting. You can present your proposal there.”

Draco shook his head again. “No, I won’t,” he said, standing up now. “I am taking the leave of absence as of this moment. I will be staying with Harry to provide the support he needs. I will help him get to his appointments and his new Healer can evaluate his progress.”

Rodgers looked both shocked and angry again. She stood when he did. “And if the Healer determines the patient needs to return to the hospital for more extensive care?”

It was a threat and Draco knew it. He paused, turning back to her. “Potter is doing well. He will probably continue to do better if he remains in his home, and with help. But if you force him back to St Mungo’s you would be risking a major set-back, maybe even a complete relapse. Rules or not, I don’t think anyone wants that.” His voice was cold, but calm, and he was gratified with the way her eyes widened. She realised that he could make it public if that happened.

It took her a minute to compose herself and Draco walked to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when she spoke again. “We will need to send someone to evaluate his living conditions,” she added.

“If that is what you need to do,” Draco answered, tired of this now. He realised he might have ruined his chance at ever returning to his position at St Mungo’s. He opened the door and stepped out into the hall. It was only a few minutes later that Harry emerged as well.

Harry was thankful that the session was over, glad to have made it through without breaking down. He walked out in front of the woman and looked up at Draco when he saw him, a small smile on his face.

Worried as he was, Draco couldn't help smiling when he saw Harry. "How are you doing?" he asked him, hand curling against his robes as he resisted the urge to reach for him.

"I'm alright," Harry replied, walking over closer. He wanted to reach out and take the man's hand, but they were still in front of the two Healers.

"Let's get you home," Draco said, gesturing toward the lift.

Harry nodded, and walked toward the lift, glancing back once to wave goodbye to the Healers.

Draco didn't look back, only allowing himself to glance up at the two women conferring as he and Harry stood in the lift. The door closed and they began the descent to the ground floor and the Floo.

Harry reached for Draco's hand as soon as the doors closed, squeezing it gently.

Draco looked at him then, smiling at Harry. He didn't say anything as people got on and off the lift at different floors. On the ground floor, he led them to the Floo and handed Harry the powder.

Harry took the powder and threw it into the fire before stepping in, clearly saying his home's name. He kind of wanted to go with Draco, but he didn't ask.

Stepping out of the Floo at Grimmauld Place, Draco sighed in relief and reached for Harry, wrapping his arms around the other man.

Harry turned in Draco's arms, hugging him tightly. "I only have to go back once a week," he mumbled into his robes.

"Did you like Dodson?" Draco asked, petting Harry's hair.

"She was okay," Harry answered, looking up at him. "Asked a lot of questions ...."

"That's her job, you know," Draco assured him. "She is your Healer now, not me."

"I know ... you're my lover," Harry said softly, giving Draco a big smile.

Draco grinned too, bringing one hand up to cup Harry's cheek. "Oh, I do like the sound of that," he whispered.

"Me too," Harry said, leaning up more to kiss Draco gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long can they keep it a secret?


	20. Making Love

Harry couldn't stop himself from waving his new wand every few minutes once they got back home from visiting Diagon Alley for the second time, just to get Harry a wand. He would always miss his first wand, but it was great to finally have another after so long.

"Thank you, Draco," he said, sitting down on the couch and smiling a little at him. Harry only smiled when he was with Draco.

Draco was thinking similar thoughts. Harry with his new wand was like being around an eleven-year-old again. "Going to practise magic on me?" he teased.

"If you'll let me," Harry replied softly, pointing the wand at him.

"What did you have in mind?" Draco asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry blushed, knowing that Draco was suggesting something, but he didn't know what. "I'll have to think about it ....”

"Well, anything you like," Draco answered, smiling and sitting down beside him. "How does it feel?"

"Really good. It's like ... now I'm almost complete," Harry said, looking down at the wand again.

"You are wonderful as you are," Draco said.

"You may think so," Harry said, running his fingers over the wood. "But I don't."

The blond reached over to stroke Harry's hair, caressing him. He frowned slightly at Harry's assertion.

"I don't see how I can be so wonderful and everything else you say ... when I'm still like this," Harry went on to say quietly, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.

"Like what?" Draco asked, kissing him on the forehead.

"Like this. Not normal, messed up ... fucked up," Harry whispered, sighing. "I know I'm getting better. I've just ... never been all that patient."

"Look at me," Draco insisted.

Harry bit his lip and looked over at Draco, waiting for him to speak.

Draco looked into those green eyes, caressing Harry's cheeks with his fingers. "What do you think it would mean to be 'normal', Harry?" Draco asked.

"Normal ... like you. You don't have nightmares and episodes, and you didn't have to learn how to live all over again," Harry trailed off, looking away to the side.

Draco sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Not anymore, but I used to. Nightmares, anger, fear. Snape left me alone, left me in hiding for nearly two years.”

Harry went quiet, watching Draco. He hadn't been left alone, but it was similar. He didn't have anyone there who actually cared. "How did you ... get past that?"

"I was a mess when the war was over. Not like you, but bad enough. I was angry and scared all the time. Even though I had been told that my parents, my aunt, Snape and Voldemort were all dead, I had trouble believing it. I kept seeing my father and aunt in my dreams and even in shadows when I was awake," Draco explained, shaking a bit just from the memory.

Harry winced slightly, but nodded, understanding. He reached to take Draco's hand, squeezing it gently.

"I managed to finish at Beauxbatons, but I was a mess. I felt so much guilt over the things I had done and I had the idea that if I became a Healer, I could make up for it. One of my teachers realised things weren't right with me and she insisted I talk to the Mind Healer at the school," Draco said. "It took a long time, but it helped, and it's why I decided to become one."

"I'm glad you did," Harry said honestly. "I don't think anyone else could've helped me the way you did. Really."

"The truth is, I am better, but not what anyone would call 'normal'," Draco said, reaching to take Harry's hand. "I don't know if anyone who has been through the things we did would be. But that's not what matters."

"So it's okay to not be normal?" Harry asked, wondering if that was the point Draco was trying to make.

"I think what matters now isn't being normal or being the way you were before. What do you want from your life now? What kind of future do you want?" Draco asked.

"I ... I don't know," Harry answered quietly, looking down. "I remember wanting to be an Auror ... but I can't see myself doing that now."

"When you imagine being happy, what does that look like to you?" Draco prompted.

"I'm just ... peaceful. Like there's nothing there holding me back all the time," Harry said, his eyes closed. "I just want to be happy. Really happy. I'm tired of feeling like this."

Draco smiled, gently squeezing Harry's hand. "I hope that is what you are able to have, then."

"You too," Harry said, opening his eyes and looking up into Draco's. "You deserve it."

Draco's heart sped up again. Should he tell Harry? He was still unsure whether Harry only wanted him there because of the way he took care of him. So he leaned in and kissed him softly.

Harry still thought that he was so lucky to have someone like Draco just for himself. He leaned into the kiss, his hands reaching to take Draco's in his.

Draco shivered with his desire for Harry, touching and holding him. The more he got from Harry, the more he wanted and he had to work to hold himself back.

Harry gripped Draco's hands and pulled him closer, so that the blond was almost on top of him as they kissed. It was a bold move from Harry, and he hoped Draco would go along with it.

Draco moaned, Harry's move definitely exciting him. He wanted Harry badly, but he knew he had to be patient and wait until his lover was ready.

With his eyes open as they kissed, Harry could see who was on top of him, and it helped him stay calm.

Draco's tongue slid over his lover's lips and into his mouth, as slowly and passionately as he could, fingers caressing and petting as he did.

Harry shuddered, his hands gripping Draco's shirt as he tentatively touched Draco's tongue with his own. It felt better than great to be able to be kissed and cared for by someone, by Draco.

Breathing through his nose, Draco kept the kiss gentle but thorough as he let Harry set the pace, holding him against his body with delight.

Slowly pulling away, Harry let his head fall back as he breathed in deeply.

Draco panted, more from arousal than anything. He rubbed his face alongside Harry's, his body pressed to the other man's.

Harry could feel Draco hard against him and he got the urge to just spread his legs for him, but ... he knew Draco wouldn't want anything to happen that way. "Draco ... what do you want to do? Just ... tell me for once, instead of me telling you."

Draco looked into Harry's eyes. The thought, _I want you to love me_ , came to him, but he smiled. "I want to bring you pleasure, to touch and to taste you," he purred.

"Is everything about me?" Harry asked softly, shifting to lie back on the couch properly.

Draco realised that it was how he felt. Since coming to live here, he had thought of practically no one else. "For me, yes," he said.

"Selfless," Harry whispered softly, looking up at him in awe. He had spent almost an entire year with people who wanted nothing but to use him to get off; now he was here and Draco only wanted him to feel good, and that was all.

Draco shook his head. "It doesn't feel selfless," he admitted. "I really do enjoy your pleasure. I feel better when you feel good, and want you to be happy." He closed his mouth on the next line, realising how close he had come to confessing his love for Harry.

"And ... I guess that means the only way for you to be happy is to let you ... make me be happy?" Harry asked after a long moment of silence, trying to figure this out completely.

"Yes, your pleasure is mine," Draco agreed.

"Wow," Harry whispered, still looking amazed.

"So, how may I please us today?" Draco asked, fingers caressing Harry's neck.

That question made Harry think again, biting his lip in concentration. He wanted them to both be happy, but according to Draco ... only Harry needed to be happy in order for Draco to be. Maybe he was ready for the next level, maybe he could handle it. "Would you want to ... make love to me?" he asked quietly.

Draco licked his lips and nodded gently. "You think you are ready?"

"I think so," Harry replied, looking a little nervous. "I know you'll stop if I want to ....”

"Here or in our bed?" Draco asked. They had recently moved to one of the rooms with one larger bed instead of two smaller.

"Bed," Harry answered, moving to get up. It was much more comfortable than the couch, especially for something like this.

Draco smirked. "Want to Apparate us?" he asked, knowing Harry had been wanting to use his magic.

Harry smiled softly and nodded, reaching out and gripping Draco's shirt again. He closed his eyes and thought of their room, a little surprised when they made it there. He was still getting used to using his magic again.

"Very good," Draco encouraged. "Keep that wand handy. I have a few new spells you might like to learn." He kissed Harry and then stepped back to strip. Then he lay back on the bed, smiling up at Harry, waiting for his lover to join him.

Harry kept his wand out like Draco said, both for learning the spells and for a little bit of extra protection that he really didn't need with Draco. Harry took a deep breath and turned to lie down next to Draco, wondering what would happen next.

Draco reached to stroke Harry's hair, petting him and smiling. "So I am here for whatever you want to do."

"I still want to try," Harry murmured, looking into Draco's eyes.

"There are so many things we can try," Draco said affectionately. "Do you have something specific in mind?"

Harry shook his head, trying to think of anything different besides what they had already done. "I can only think of sex," he said.

"By sex, you mean intercourse?" Draco asked. Harry didn't seem to have clear ideas about what was or wasn't sex.

"Isn’t that the only one?" Harry asked, looking slightly confused.

"So many lovely things we can explore," Draco smiled, kissing him gently. "Making love is about using anything you want to bring pleasure to your partner."

"We've done some of them," Harry said softly, blushing at the memories. "I just didn't know there were more."

"Since what you tell me is that they used sex to hurt you, then you really haven't made love except during the times we have touched," Draco said softly. "Trust me to touch you again, to show you more?"

"I trust you," Harry replied, nodding slowly. "I do.”

"Good," Draco said, pulling Harry's body against his and kissing him once more.

Harry slid his arms around Draco's as they kissed, squeezing him gently.

Draco kissed and stroked and caressed Harry, until they were both aroused and beginning to rock against each. "Do you want to be inside me?" Draco whispered.

"I don't want to hurt you," Harry gasped, leaning back to look at Draco, his eyes a little wide in fear.

"Love, you won't. I will show you how to make it good. Do you like that idea?" Draco encouraged.

Harry thought about it for a moment before he nodded, still looking a little nervous. "As long as it doesn't hurt you."

Draco reached for the bottle of oil he had. "First, preparing the person is important so that it feels good. Want to?"

"How?" Harry asked, eyeing the bottle of oil. They had never used that on him before.

"You coat your fingers in the oil and then you rub my entrance until you feel it relax. As I relax, you work a finger inside me. Eventually another. When I am ready, I can ride you or you can be on top, if you prefer,” Draco explained.

"Um ... okay," Harry said, furrowing his brow and sitting up to reach for the bottle. He opened it and carefully poured some of the oil onto his fingers.

Draco lifted his wand and cast a special Cleaning Charm on himself. Then he got up on his hands and knees, smiling back over his shoulder at Harry.

"Can you lie on your back?" Harry asked softly, wanting to see Draco's face better.

Draco smirked and rolled over onto his back. He spread his legs and hooked his hands under his knees, holding himself open for Harry.

Harry tucked his hair behind his ears and lay down in between his legs, hesitantly moving his hand up to press the tip of his finger against Draco's entrance. It was strange being on this end rather than being the one lying down. "Like this?" he asked, rubbing gently.

Draco nodded. "Yes, love," he gasped, body quivering at the touch and anticipating more.

Harry rubbed until he could feel Draco relax. "I'm still worried," he said softly, knowing that he had to push a finger inside soon.

Draco's cock was hard and leaking, curving up against his belly. It twitched at the teasing touch. "More, please."

It was obvious that Draco liked it, and Harry couldn't deny him what he wanted. He took another deep breath and began to push the finger inside, surprised at how easily it slid in.

Draco moaned, bending his knees more as he gripped his legs harder, trying to control the urge to push Harry faster. "Yes, yes," he encouraged.

Harry gently wiggled his finger as he continued to slide it inside, looking up at Draco as he reacted. "I didn't know it could feel so good," he whispered, tenderly moving his finger in and out.

"Yes, gently and with lube," Draco gasped. "Please, another finger."

It worried Harry that Draco wanted another now, especially since his finger was being held so tightly. But it was what Draco wanted so he didn't feel he had much of a choice. He pressed two fingers against the hole before pressing them inside as well, biting his lip at how it would feel.

Draco panted quietly, trying to relax around Harry's fingers. It had been a while since he had been with anyone like this, so it did burn a bit. "Oh, yes, gentle, like that," he whispered.

Harry honestly couldn't imagine how this could ever feel good, but here Draco was, obviously liking it. "I have to ... to stretch you?" he murmured, sliding the fingers in deeply. He waited before pulling them slowly out.

"Oh, yes," Draco gasped. He reached down to touch himself, slowly stroking his cock to help himself open up more. "Another, please."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, biting his lip again. He still believed it would hurt.

"Harry, I want you inside me," Draco whispered. "Please."

"But you're not ready yet," Harry whispered, still having only two fingers inside him.

"Almost, stretch me," Draco gasped, lifting his hips a bit.

Harry nodded slowly, distracted for a second by the way Draco lifted his hips. It made him notice just how hard he was, Harry's own cock pressed into the sheets below them. He flushed and moved to begin to press the third finger inside, leaning down closer to get a better look.

"Yes, please, yes," Draco gasped, trembling now. "Twist them!"

Harry looked up at Draco as he twisted the fingers, almost expecting him to wince in pain.

Harry's fingers brushed Draco's prostate and he moaned in pleasure. "Yes!"

"What?" Harry asked, nearly pulling his fingers out even though Draco's moan had sounded good. "What did I do?"

"Again, please," Draco gasped. "I'll explain later."

Harry wasn't even sure what it was he was doing to make Draco gasp like he did, but he guessed it had something to do with twisting his fingers. He did it again a few times, feeling Draco tighten and shudder around his fingers.

"Ready," Draco gasped. "Do you want me like this, or me on top?"

"I'll be on top," Harry said quietly, thinking that Draco wouldn't like it any other way.

"Make love to me, Harry," Draco whispered. "Let me feel you inside myself."

The words made Harry flush again as he sat up and reached for the bottle, pouring some in his hand and then rubbing it over his cock. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he whispered, positioning himself and moving up Draco's body.

"Go slow at first," Draco said, still holding his knees up so that he was stretched open for Harry.

"Promise I will," Harry said, burying his face in Draco's neck before he began to press inside of him.

"Look at me," Draco gasped, his hands coming up to grip Harry's shoulders as he felt the head of the man's cock breach him.

Harry pulled his head back and looked down at Draco, a small moan forcing its way out of him. "It feels,” he gasped, continuing to push inside, "good."

"Yes, Harry," Draco gasped, looking up into his face and smiling. "I love the feel of you filling me." He did, too, feeling Harry's flesh sliding within him, every ridge moving further inside sending shocks of pleasure racing up his spine.

Harry was trying his best to keep his eyes open, but after pushing all the way inside of Draco, he just couldn't. He whimpered and groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. This was probably why they liked doing this so much to Harry before. It felt incredible.

Draco shuddered, gripping Harry's shoulders. "Oh, you feel so good," he gasped. It burned a little, but he knew that would pass. He loved the stretch and the feeling of Harry's cock, warm and alive and pulsing with his heartbeat.

"You feel better," Harry whispered breathlessly, resting his forehead against Draco's chest. He was staying still, even though his body was trembling slightly, wanting more.

"More," Draco gasped.

"You want me to move?" Harry asked quietly, just to be sure.

"Yes, move inside me, Harry," Draco answered, trembling and arching with desire up toward him.

Harry nodded, pressing a small kiss to Draco's chest before he began to pull out, moaning again at the feeling. He fell into a slow rhythm after that, rolling his hips.

Draco arched his hips up with each thrust, moaning in delight, hands sliding over Harry’s shoulders and down his back. "Yes, amazing!"

Harry bit his lip and gripped the sheets desperately on both sides of Draco, thrusting a little harder and faster as time went on.

Draco gasped and chanted "yes" and "Harry" as he completely lost himself in the feel of being fucked by his lover.

It wasn't long before Harry was feeling close, his hips snapping more quickly than before. He barely managed to gasp that he was close before he was coming unrepentantly, his back arching as a cry was torn loose from his lips.

Draco reached between them, grasping his cock again and stroking himself. Harry was still shuddering over him when Draco cried out, shooting come over both their bellies.

Harry held himself up until his arms were shaking, collapsing when he couldn't hold himself up anymore. "Are you okay?” he whispered when he could breathe properly.

Draco was shaking still and reached his clean hand to wrap about Harry, rolling them onto their sides, facing each other. "Fantastic," he said with a grin, kissing Harry again.

"Really?" Harry asked, blushing again.

"You seemed to enjoy it as well," Draco replied.

"I did ... now I know why they liked it," Harry murmured, snuggling closer.

Draco wasn't sure what to say to that. He knew he could not enjoy raping someone. "It feels better with someone you love."

"Someone you love ....” Harry repeated, rubbing his cheek against Draco's chest.

Draco smiled, returning the gesture and hugging him close. It was as close to a confession as he had gotten. He loved Harry. He knew that, but he didn't want Harry to feel pressured to love him back.

"Tired," Harry whispered, his eyes already closing for sleep. He felt completely satisfied and relaxed with Draco like this.

Draco cast Cleaning Charms again and held Harry in his arms watching him sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect Draco to bottom? Grins.


	21. Outing

Draco sat down at the table with the mail and the paper. He smiled at Harry, glad to see how much better the man ate these days.

Harry hadn't noticed that he was almost always finishing his plate of food now, but he did notice that he wasn't getting full as quickly. He didn't like looking at or reading the paper when they were at the table, so he kept to himself, eating and thinking about other various things. Like what they were going to do today, and if it involved a couch or a bed ... he blushed and looked down at his food. He just couldn't seem to get enough of Draco.

Draco caught the blush and his smile widened, arousal stirring just from the look on Harry's face. "So what do you want to do today?" he asked.

Harry shrugged, looking up at Draco. "I don't know," he said, pushing away the empty plate. "Up to you."

"No, actually, it isn't," Draco said. He wanted to encourage more independence from Harry.

"But I don't know," Harry said honestly, running a hand through his hair. His life now revolved around Draco and what they did together. He didn't know what else to do.

"Do you want to go out?" Draco asked.

Harry didn't like the crowds and the people congratulating him, but he guessed he would have to get used to it, or spend the rest of his life in Grimmauld Place. "All right," he said. "Where?"

"Anywhere you like," Draco said casually. Then he cocked his head. "Maybe we could go somewhere for you to fly that Firebolt you bought last month."

Harry perked up at the idea. He had forgotten about the broom. "Really? I'd like that a lot ... but where could we go?"

"There are a few places," Draco said. "Would you want to go to Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts?” Harry whispered, getting a faraway look in his eye. "Yes ... I miss it there."

"Then that's what we'll do today," Draco said.

***

Draco owled Headmistress McGonagall with Harry's request to fly on Hogwarts’ grounds. The reply was prompt, so by after lunch they were dressed and ready to Apparate to Scotland. This was a big step for Harry, and Draco hoped it would be a good one for him.

"Is school in session yet?" Harry asked once they were ready, wondering if there would be students around.

"Yes," Draco told him, as they stepped outside.

Harry reached for Draco's hand, sighing softly. He reminded himself that it was something he'd have to learn to deal with.

Draco Apparated them to the gate of Hogwarts. He shivered for a minute. He had been so focused on the other man that Draco had forgotten he hadn't been back to Hogwarts since that night on the tower at the end of sixth year. He found his eyes drawn to that spot, almost as if he would see Dumbledore falling from it still.

Harry remembered the last time he was here. Dumbledore's funeral. He looked off toward the tomb of his mentor. He squeezed Draco's hand and stepped closer to him, wondering if coming here was really a good idea or not.

Harry's movement brought Draco out of his own memories and back to the present. He returned the squeeze and began walking up the path. He saw McGonagall waiting for them on the steps of Hogwarts.

"Professor," Harry said softly, nodding at her before looking down.

"Mr Potter ... Harry, it's so good to see you," she said warmly and then nodded to Draco, seeming less sure of how to greet him. "Mr Malfoy."

Draco nodded in return but didn't speak. He really didn't know what the appropriate thing to say to her was and didn't want Harry's outing spoiled by any anger she probably felt toward him.

"It's good to see you again, too," Harry said, glancing back up at her. "Thank you for letting me come back.”

"Well, you are always welcome here, Harry. And the pitch isn't in use yet this early in the term. Even later, most students will be in classes during the day. So please, feel free to use it whenever you like," she assured him.

"Thank you," Harry said, glad that the students were in class so the chance of them seeing him was low.

Draco remained quiet, very aware of the Headmistress' distrust of him. He was relieved when she excused herself to get back to work. He realised he was still holding Harry's hand and wondered what she made of that.

"Let's go to the pitch," Harry said softly, tugging on Draco's hand lightly. He was getting excited about flying again after so long, even if he was a little nervous about doing okay, as well.

Draco smiled again, happily letting Harry lead him to the field. The last time they had both been here, hadn't Harry hit him? He shook his head at the memory.

Harry stopped once they reached the middle of the field and took a deep breath, his eyes closing. If he thought hard enough he could remember the first time being out here in the field, his first game ... his last game.

Draco squeezed Harry's hand and then made his way to one of the benches. "I always did love watching you fly."

"You're not flying with me?" Harry asked, blushing at the other man's words.

"No broom," Draco said, holding his palms up.

"Oh.” Harry looked down at his own and then back up at Draco. "Fly with me."

Draco grinned and cocked his head. "You sure? You can go faster without a second person."

"I want to fly with you, though," Harry said, holding out his hand again. "Please?"

Draco stood up and walked over, gesturing for Harry to mount the broom.

Harry moved the broom around and properly mounted it, getting excited again. "Come on!"

Swinging his leg over, Draco mounted the broom behind Harry and his heart sped up as he put his hands on Harry's hips.

Harry gripped the broom and looked over his shoulder to make sure that Draco was secure before he kicked off the ground, a little shaky at first, but then slowly gaining strength.

Draco wrapped both arms around Harry's waist and hung on, feeling the double excitement of flying and holding his lover.

Harry quickly got the hang of flying with another person on the broom and he grinned, flying as fast as he could around the field. "Wish we had a Snitch!" he laughed.

Smiling, Draco held Harry tightly, relaxing into the feel of the wind in his hair and the other man's body against his own. The Snitch wasn't what he was wanting. Though, if they both had brooms, a one-on-one game would be fun.

Harry didn't know how long he flew around the pitch, or even how many times he did it, but he knew he couldn't stay forever. It wasn't like before when he went to Hogwarts and he could just go back inside and into the Gryffindor boys' dorm. He flew up high above the pitch one last time and stopped, floating there for a moment. "Hold on tight," he said to Draco before he tilted the broom into a dive, grinning the entire way down.

Draco's heart beat fast and he held Harry so tightly it must have hurt a little. It was exhilarating and terrifying. He was used to being in control on a broom, not helpless while they hurtled toward the ground.

Harry waited until it looked like they were about to crash and then gripped the broom, pulling them upright, their feet skimming the grass. Draco's arms were really tight around him and it made Harry laugh softly, knowing that he must have scared Draco.

Draco gasped and then growled in Harry's ear. Yes, he felt frightened and annoyed and, fuck, if it didn't turn him on anyway.

Harry slowly came to a stop and let his feet down, moving to get off the broom, but he couldn't because Draco was still holding him. "You okay?" he asked.

Draco's face was still pressed against the side of Harry's neck. He nipped by way of reply, getting his feet under him but not letting go of Harry.

Harry tilted his head to the side when he felt Draco's nip, guessing that he was okay, but just didn't feel like replying. "That was fun.”

"Yes, exhilarating," Draco finally said, licking the spot now. As tightly as they were pressed together, there was no way Harry couldn't feel how excited flying with him had gotten the blond.

Harry relaxed back against him, letting the broom drop in between their legs. "I can tell you really liked it," he murmured, biting his lip softly and wriggling against the hardness he felt.

Draco moaned, completely oblivious at that moment to the fact that they stood out in the open. He held tight to Harry still, kissing and licking his neck more.

"Draco," Harry whispered, shuddering as he was licked along those sensitive spots.

"Harry," Draco whispered back.

"We're outside," Harry reminded him, still remembering the fact that school was in session.

Draco stilled himself, taking several deep breaths and slowly releasing Harry. "Shower?" he smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

Harry blushed and reached to pick up the broom. "When we get home," he replied.

"Player changing rooms are right here," Draco suggested, heart still beating too fast.

The thought of doing something in such a public place made Harry blush harder. "What if someone comes in?”

"I can Spell the door with a Locking Charm," Draco assured him.

Harry thought about it for a moment more, and then nodded. "Okay, we can go in."

Draco grinned and led the way to the changing rooms. His heart pounded, finding it very exciting to be back here after all. This was the place he best remembered Harry, and he wondered if it helped Harry feel more himself.

Harry looked around as they stepped inside, remembering the times he had been here before and after games. How anxious everyone was before the game, and then happy or sad after, depending on how they had done.

Draco did as he promised, placing the Locking Charm on the door before turning back and beginning to strip.

"What did you want to do?" Harry asked, setting his broom off to the side and beginning to undress as well, laying his clothes over a bench. He was still self-conscious about the way he looked, but he knew Draco didn't find him disgusting at all.

Draco was still hard and he put his hands on his hips. "I thought we were taking a shower," he teased.

"Oh yeah," Harry murmured, blushing slightly. He walked past Draco towards the showers, glancing back at him once with a small smirk on his face.

Draco's arousal bobbed as he walked, making it clear he had a lot more on his mind than simply getting clean. He followed Harry into the shower, still smiling.

Harry turned the shower on, stepping to the side so that he could check the temperature. Once it was warm enough he stepped under it and turned around, holding a hand out for Draco.

Draco's breath caught as he watched the water slide over his lover's body and he happily took his hand, stepping up close so that they both stood under the same spray.

"Imagine if we did this during school," Harry said, sliding his arms around Draco and leaning up to kiss him.

Draco had imagined it many times, back then as well. He blushed and kissed Harry.

Harry kissed Draco softly, moving one hand down and running it over his hip. "How do you want to do this?" he asked against his lips.

So many images flooded Draco's mind, body trembling at Harry's touch. "Do you want to be inside me again?" he asked.

Harry swallowed and then nodded quickly, looking as eager as he felt.

Draco Summoned his wand and, turning to face the wall, he pointed the wand at his own entrance and cast a silent Lubrication Charm. "All yours," he whispered, looking back over his shoulder at Harry.

"Do I need to prepare you?" Harry asked, moving up closer.

Draco hesitated but nodded. "Yes, use your fingers again," he suggested.

Harry moved a hand down and easily slipped a finger inside of Draco, wishing that he could see the look on his face rather than seeing just his back. "Tell me when you're ready,” he whispered, gently moving the finger in and out before pressing another inside.

Draco gasped and moaned, bracing against the tiled wall and spreading himself as far as he could and still stay upright. "Oh, yes," he agreed, looking back at Harry again.

Harry rested his forehead against Draco's back, the fingers gently stretching him. He was used to doing this with him now, and he wasn't as afraid of hurting him. But he was still careful, waiting until he could feel that Draco was relaxed enough before sliding a third finger inside and twisting them just the way Draco liked.

"Yes, Harry, please, more," Draco begged, trembling at how good this felt.

Harry kept twisting his fingers and moving them in and out of Draco, increasing the speed as he went on. "Are you ready yet?" he asked softly.

"Oh, yes, Harry, I want your cock inside me," Draco answered, groaning as he did.

Harry moaned softly at the need in Draco's voice, pulling his fingers out and positioning himself. "Draco," Harry whispered, closing his eyes as he began to press inside.

Draco felt his own muscles stretch and contract as the head of his lover's cock breached him, and then that delicious slide – pain and pleasure mixing as he panted.

Harry waited until he was completely inside of Draco before he paused, kissing the wet skin in front of him. Harry had to admit that he was addicted to this, addicted to Draco and how good it felt to be with him this way.

Draco's cock dripped now with pre-come, his arse clenching around Harry's cock as he stretched him. "Yes, please, Harry, more," he begged.

"More," Harry whispered, moving his hands down to gently grip Draco's hips as he began to thrust, moaning each time his hips rolled.

"Yes, so good," Draco encouraged, arching back into him.

Harry closed his eyes and built up a rhythm, feeling more excited about doing this in here when they could get caught, even with the spell on the door.

"Yes, yes," Draco chanted, panting and hands slipping on the tiles as he tried to keep himself braced. His cock was jumping with each thrust and he felt himself teetering on the edge.

"Touch yourself," Harry whispered as his hips began to snap more quickly, feeling himself getting close. He would've reached around to do it himself, but he didn't think he could manage it in this position.

Draco lay one forearm elbow-to-hand spread against the wet tiles, using it to brace himself. He then reached to wrap his fingers around his own shaft, moaning louder now.

Harry wondered if they should've put up a Silencing Charm as well, but it was too late for that. They had probably already been heard if anyone were listening. "Close," he gasped, thrusting the hardest he had ever done before.

Draco nodded. He only pulled a couple times on his erection before he cried out, come pumping from his cock and coating the tiles.

Harry could only thrust two more times before he was coming as well, crying out Draco's name. He shuddered and pressed his cheek against Draco's back, swallowing a few times and panting.

Draco reached his hand back to rest on Harry's hip, panting and relaxing as they stood under the warm water with their bodies still pressed together.

Harry sighed softly, stroking Draco's hip gently before he pulled out.

Draco trembled as he turned around, wrapping arms around Harry and kissing him.

Harry kissed him back for a good few minutes, only pulling back when the water began to get a little cold. "Let's go home.”

"Sure," Draco agreed, turning off the water. He smirked as he dried himself. "Thanks for the trip into one of my favourite teen fantasies, Harry."

"Fantasy?" Harry asked, looking a little confused. "What fantasy?"

Draco blushed, grinning. He pulled on his trousers, trying to figure out how to answer that.

Harry watched him curiously as he dried off and dressed, wondering if he were planning on telling him about this fantasy. "When did you have it first?"

Draco felt the blush creep up to his ears. He sighed and nodded his head. "Back in sixth year," he admitted.

"You thought about me back then?" Harry asked, using a spell to dry his hair. "I didn't know.”

Draco nodded, face suddenly serious as he stepped toward Harry. "Yes, I ... did," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," Harry said suddenly, not exactly sure of what he was apologising for.

Draco reached for Harry's chin, tipping it up to look into his eyes. "Why are you sorry? You don't like the idea that I felt something for you then?"

"No, I mean ... you liked me and I was so suspicious of you. I hurt you," Harry murmured.

Draco winced. "I was a prat and doing things I shouldn't have been doing."

"I still hurt you,” Harry whispered, looking down.

"After I broke your nose," Draco reminded him.

"You had a good reason to do that," Harry said softly

"Hardly," Draco drawled, kissing the man's nose now. "I was angry with you and too much of a coward to do what I really wanted to do."

"I was spying, remember," Harry said, looking up at him. "But what would you have wanted to do?"

"This," Draco answered, pulling Harry to him again and kissing him gently.

Harry slid his arms around Draco's neck and kissed him back, wondering if he would've reacted the same way if he had kissed him then. "But instead ... you stomped on my nose," he murmured, laughing softly.

"Yes, foolish confused boy," Draco whispered, petting Harry again now. "It doesn't bother you? Knowing I wanted you then?"

"No, that's in the past," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm glad you told me now, though. I don't know how I would've taken it then. There was so much going on, you remember. Now it's different. I understand it all better."

Draco nodded, still feeling vulnerable and odd to have practically admitted having been in love with Harry since he was fifteen. He nodded and took his hand to lead them from Hogwarts.

***

Draco was quieter than usual as they went home. He put their coats and the broom in the closet and made sure dinner would be ready soon.

Harry went into the living room and sat down in his usual spot, curling up and waiting for Draco to join him. "Next time, you should bring your broom."

Draco sat down on the sofa, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling, not surprised to see the plaster was cracked in places. "I don't have a broom," he whispered.

"Well, then we have to get one for you before we go back," Harry said, moving closer. He looked up at the ceiling, wondering what Draco could see that he didn't. "What's wrong?"

Draco sighed and looked back down. He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and kissed the top of his head.

"You're thinking about something," Harry said softly, having gotten very good at observing things after all those months of not speaking.

Draco grimaced, nodding. "I brood too much, or so I have been told," he admitted.

"Why are you brooding?" Harry asked, sitting up a little. "Was it something I did?”

"I am a different person than I was then. I worked hard to change," Draco said. "I don't want to justify what I did. I want to apologise for it."

"Haven't you already?" Harry asked, tilting his head. "And I've forgiven you. I know you've changed. I've known that since I first saw you in the hospital. Well, maybe not the first day."

"It means a lot to me that you have forgiven me," Draco said, reaching to cup Harry's chin. "You matter more than anyone. You always meant more than anyone else."

Harry just couldn't understand that. "Always? You can't mean that ....”

Draco knew he should stop now, but couldn't seem to help himself. "I was angry back then, but you still mattered. It took me a long time to figure out what it was about you.”

"Then tell me ... what is it about me?" Harry asked, biting his lip and leaning up a little. "I just can't see it yet.”

"A million little things," Draco whispered. "And yet not one of them explains it. Something about you draws me like a plant to sunlight."

"A plant to sunlight," Harry repeated softly, watching Draco closely. He liked the description. It gave him a good visual even without a complete explanation. "I get it.”

"Good," Draco answered, leaning in to kiss him again.

"So I'm your sunlight," Harry whispered against Draco's lips.

"Yes," Draco said, grinning now. "You make me feel warm and happy."

"I'm glad I can do that for you," Harry said quietly, kissing him a few more times. "I really am."

Draco kissed him again and then drew back, waggling his eyebrows. "So I will have to buy a broom and a Snitch. That way I can beat you next time."

"You can't beat me," Harry said, slowly grinning. "You never did before."

"Is that a challenge, Potter?" Draco asked, smirking.

"I'd say it is, Malfoy," Harry replied, poking him in the chest.

"And what does the winner get?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever they want!"

"And what would you want?"

"Um ... I'd have to think about it," Harry said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Do you know what you'd want?"

"I have what I want," Draco whispered, kissing Harry's chin. "But, maybe we could go out somewhere, together?"

"Like a date?" Harry asked, blinking at him.

"Yes," Draco answered with a grin.

"I've only ever been on one date before,” Harry murmured, liking the idea of going out with Draco. Even though there'd be people around then, he guessed.

"Will you? Go out with me?" Draco asked, feeling nervous just asking.

"'Course I will," Harry replied softly, smiling a little at Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teen fantasies and confessions...


	22. Unclean

Draco had been in such a rush to take Harry flying he hadn't gone through the mail. The next day, though, he found himself reading the _Daily Prophet_ and worrying about what to tell Harry. He took a deep breath and stepped into the sitting room. "Harry," he said softly, "I need to talk to you about something."

"Hm?" Harry asked, looking a little distracted. He had been attempting to polish his broom, even though it hardly needed any polish just yet.

Draco had the paper in hand and sat down nearby. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Yeah? Go on," Harry said, finally looking up at him and setting his broom aside.

"Do you remember the article about McLaggen?" he asked.

Harry nodded slowly, already not liking where this was going. "What about it?”

"There ... there isn't enough evidence to convict him," Draco said. "None of his other victims lived to testify."

Harry looked down and reached for the broom, trying to distract himself again. "So?”

Draco frowned. "I know one who did live."

Harry shook his head, beginning to tremble. "No, Draco, no ....”

"Then he will walk away. They will let him go." Draco knew that part of the reason McLaggen had been able to convince people he had been under Imperius was that he had been a Gryffindor, and, of course, that meant he wouldn't have willingly done the things he did.

Harry didn't want McLaggen to go free either. It frightened him to think of the man out there, doing those things to others, maybe even coming after Harry again. He clenched his bottom lip between his teeth and pushed the broom away, pulling his knees up to his chest and beginning to rock. "I ... I c-can't ....”

Draco knelt beside Harry, laying a hand over the other man's."It might actually help you get better, if you testified against him," he explained.

"You just want me to talk about it," Harry said, biting his lip harder and shaking.

"If I had my way, you would never have to talk about it, never have to even think about it again," Draco said fiercely. "But that's not how it works. Even if we erase it from your memories, you would still have the dreams, the fear."

"Talking about it just makes me remember. Makes me feel it," Harry whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. Just thinking about talking about it now made Harry shudder.

Draco squeezed Harry's hand, and tried to let it show in his face how much Harry meant to him. "I know," he said.

Harry didn't want to, he honestly didn't want to, but he could see no way out of it. "Would I have to say it ... say what happened ... in court?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. We have to contact the Ministry first and let them know you have evidence against him," Draco explained.

Harry rubbed at his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I really don't want to.”

"I won't force you to and I won't let anyone else," Draco said, still holding Harry's hand firmly in his own. "But I will stand by you if you do."

"The entire time?" Harry asked hopefully, looking at him and squeezing his hand.

"I will be beside you as long as you want and anywhere I can," the blond answered solemnly.

"Then ... then I'll do it," Harry said, resigned.

"Harry, I want you to be free of it, to be able to live your life," Draco insisted.

"I don't think I'll ever be, but ... I'll try, okay?"

"You are braver than you realise," Draco said, leaning forward to kiss him.

"I guess," Harry whispered, shoulders slumped with his dampened mood.

Draco stood looking down at Harry, unsure of what to do to help the man's misery. It was another of those moments when his urge to make Harry feel better seemed at odds with his training as a Healer. He sighed. "Maybe you'd feel better with a nice bath?" he suggested.

Harry shrugged and then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He uncurled himself and stood up haltingly. "Okay," he answered, turning to walk up the stairs to go to the bathroom.

Draco followed him, worried. Harry had been making such good progress but something like this could cause a set-back, temporarily at least, even if in the long run confronting one of his attackers might help Harry.

Harry stepped inside of the room and started to undress, sitting down on the toilet seat lid so that Draco could set up the bath.

Draco started the taps running and picked up some lavender oil, adding it to the warm water.

Harry was waiting when he smelled the oil, frowning and looking down. There was something oddly familiar about it, but ... he couldn't remember exactly what.

Draco set the bottle aside and then leaned against the wall, waiting for Harry. "You ready to get in?"

Harry shook his head, reaching up to grip his hair as he tried to remember. But he couldn't. It was the smell, it had to be the smell ....

Concerned, Draco stepped closer, reaching to lay his hand atop Harry's, trying to soothe him. "Harry, can you hear me?"

Harry whimpered softly and shook his head again, gripping at his hair. "I can't remember," he mumbled, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Harry, it is going to be okay. You are safe," Draco assured him, wrapping his other arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry looked up at him then, his eyes opening quickly. "I'm trying to remember ... the water, it smells like ... something familiar," he tried to explain.

The blond cupped Harry's cheek with one hand. "Something good or bad?" he prompted.

Harry closed his eyes to think again, realising that it was only not remembering that was frustrating him. "Good ... I think ...."

"Let's get you into the water. Just relax and if it sparks more of a memory, that's fine. If not, that's okay, too," Draco assured him.

***

Harry tossed and turned, crying out that he didn't want to do it and that he was so sorry. But everything just went on as if he didn't say a word, the screaming, the thrusts, the pain.

Draco cried out as the blow woke him, and it took him few moments to figure out that he had been having a nightmare but that the blow had been real. Harry was having his own nightmare. Draco blinked and struggled to get a firm grasp on his lover who was thrashing. "Harry, it's me, you're safe," he insisted.

Harry sobbed as he was slowly pulled out of his dream, the fear making his heart beat rapidly. "I didn't want to," he whispered through it all, clinging to Draco.

"I know you didn't," Draco soothed, petting Harry’s hair as he held him. "He made you do it?"

"He made me ... he made me hurt her," Harry whimpered, pressing his face against Draco as he cried.

"A woman?" Draco asked, whispering.

Harry shuddered, but nodded, the memory alone making him feel sick.

"Who was she?" Draco asked.

"I don't know," Harry moaned, his voice anguished and broken.

"Was this McLaggen?" Draco asked. "He had you hurt a woman you didn't know?"

Harry nodded slowly, biting his lip and covering his mouth with both hands so that he wouldn't get sick. "Then he ... he killed her ....”

Draco nodded, shivering with his own memories as well. "It's how they do it, you know. How they make you one of them."

The thought made Harry sob again, struggling to get out of Draco's arms suddenly. "I'm just as guilty as them ...” he said, getting off the bed and turning to stumble out of the room, heading for the bathroom.

Draco scrambled after him, not stopping him but not letting him go anywhere without him. "No, you aren't," he insisted.

"I am!” Harry ran into the bathroom and fell to his knees in front of the toilet, throwing up forcefully.

Draco stood beside him, reaching to hold Harry's hair back for him. He had had enough of those moments himself to understand. "Then I am, too," he said.

Harry shook his head, not believing that at all. "You aren't," he whispered. "I tried to stop him but he made me do things!”

"That's more than I ever did," Draco said, running the water in the sink. He handed Harry a glass and then used a flannel to clean his face.

Harry rinsed out his mouth out and sighed, turning his face up to let Draco wash him. "And I then I lay there ... and let it happen ....”

Draco led Harry back to the room, pulling him down to sit. "And was there anything you could have done that would have saved her?"

"Fought harder," Harry whispered. "At least taken the attention off of her.”

"Was she a Muggle?" Draco asked.

"I guess so," Harry mumbled, feeling tired again.

"Then she was dead no matter what you did. They used them for sport," Draco said, bitterness in his voice. "My aunt tried to teach me ....” He stopped, looking down.

Harry winced and took Draco's hand, turning to move back onto the bed. "I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

"Listen to me," Draco whispered. "I ... I did things, too. And I had less reason than you did."

Harry let go of Draco's hand and curled up on the bed. "You did?"

"Summer after fifth year," Draco said. "My Aunt Bellatrix had escaped from Azkaban. She was ... trying to make me into one of them."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Harry said softly, lifting a trembling hand to reach out for him.

Draco gathered him into his arms. "She tortured and killed Muggles, made me watch and tried to get me to ... made me participate. I know how that works."

"It hurt more than anything to have to listen to her screams," Harry whispered, curling up in Draco's arms.

Draco nodded. "I still hear them sometimes," he said, voice catching. "But, Harry, they would have hurt and killed her even if you hadn't been there."

"It's just how I am," Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "Can't help it."

"Feeling compassion for her is good, but not guilt that will destroy your life and let her killer go free," Draco explained.

"I said I'd testify," Harry said quietly.

"It is brave and important," Draco said, then cupped Harry's chin, kissing his lips and then resting his forehead against Harry's. "Now is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Just hold me," Harry said, still feeling a little shaken up.

Draco lay back on the bed, pulling the covers up over them. Then he pulled Harry close, petting him and making soothing noises.

Harry fell asleep a short while later, curling up next to Draco with a sigh.

***

Harry was chained in his usual corner, begging for attention or food, when they brought Lucius in. His body was blackened and bloody. Harry had never seen Voldemort so angry before. The creature screamed, promising great rewards to any of his followers who managed to capture Malfoy's killer.

That night Harry was brought to Voldemort's bedchamber. Harry knelt down in front of Voldemort's bed like he always did, his arms wrapped around himself as he trembled. He could tell how angry Voldemort was about the death of Lucius, and now he was scared that it was going to all be taken out on him.

Voldemort waved his hand and the chains fell from Harry. Then the red-eyed monster of a man advanced on him, face looking as grim as it ever had. Harry leaned away from him and whimpered softly, even though his body was craving contact like it always was.

Voldemort hissed and reached for Harry, grabbing him by the hair and literally dragging him across the floor, throwing him face down over the edge of the bed. Harry cried out and pressed his face against the bed, his fingers digging into the sheets as he braced himself for the pain that would come. It didn't take long. Voldemort stripped himself magically and shoved himself into Harry, rutting nearly frantically into him, one clawed hand pressed into the small of Harry's back and the other raking red furrows in his skin.

Harry cried out again and again, gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were white. He could only squeeze his eyes shut and wait until he was done.

Voldemort hissed as he came and then shoved off Harry, leaving him lying there in pain again.

Harry panted softly, curling up the best he could. "Can ... can I come, please?" he whispered, his erection still throbbing painfully.

Voldemort ignored him, firing a hex at a chair which burst into pieces, and then stood there shaking.

"Please," Harry begged from where he lay, shaking as well.

Voldemort looked over his shoulder at Harry, looking confused, as if he had forgotten he was there. He flicked his hand and the control was released on Harry's cock – and Harry screamed, not expecting the spell to be lifted so quickly. It hurt when he came and he jerked until it was over, leaving him panting.

Voldemort stood over him then, looking at him curiously. "When was the last time you were bathed?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry whispered, looking confused by the question. Since when did anyone care about that?

"Follow me," Voldemort said and turned, walking to the adjoining bathroom.

Harry wanted to ask for food as he got off the bed and crawled after Voldemort, but decided not to, wondering if he was going to get a bath now. He didn't want to hurt his chances of that by wanting food.

Voldemort waved a hand and the large bath filled with warm, softly-scented water. "Clean yourself and then come back to the room."

Harry stared at the bath for a long moment, glancing up at Voldemort and then back at the bath, as if waiting for the obvious trick. When there wasn't one that he could notice immediately, he took a chance and crawled over to the bath, biting his lip and dipping his hand in it. Nothing happened. In fact the water was warm, and it smelled so nice. But there had to be a catch. He glanced back at Voldemort again.

Voldemort turned and left the room.

Harry turned his gaze back to the bath and hesitated only a moment longer before he pulled himself up and then climbed into it, hissing softly as he settled down into the warm water. Nothing bad happened, so he decided he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. He sunk down until his entire body was covered, the various cuts and welts burning a little as the water got into them. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this comfortable. And, to his surprise, the warm water seemed to soothe the need for touch, at least some.

Harry washed his face off, wishing he had a mirror just to see how he looked. He felt horrible, and probably looked the same, especially without his glasses. They had been broken beyond repair during one of his days in the room. Things were blurry, but he adjusted. He dipped his head under the water to wash his hair out, and then he just lay there, not knowing how much time was passing by. He stayed in the water until he felt it start to go cold. Harry slowly pulled himself out of the bath and shivered in the cool air, noticing that Voldemort didn't give him a towel or anything. He sighed and turned, crawling out of the bathroom and back into the room.

Voldemort was sitting in his chair by the fireplace. "You can eat," he said off-handedly, red eyes staring into the flames.

"Eat what?" Harry asked, still confused at the way Voldemort was behaving.

Voldemort looked over at the table, frowning. He snapped his fingers and food appeared on it.

"Anything?" Harry asked, swallowing hard once the food appeared.

"Whatever you like," Voldemort said, turning back to the fire.

Harry watched him for a moment before he crawled over to the table and began to pull food down from it, collecting a few pieces of chicken in his lap before he began to eat quickly.

Lucius' chair was in pieces and Voldemort leaned forward, picking up bits and throwing each one into the fire.

It was then that Harry realised what might be the real reason why Voldemort was like this. He was grieving. "I'm sorry," he said softly, swallowing the food in his mouth.

Voldemort ignored him, continuing to throw things into the fire and watch them burn.

Harry wasn't used to having so much food and he could only eat two pieces of the chicken before he felt full. He pushed the rest of it away and crawled around Voldemort's chair so that he was near the fire to dry off.

Voldemort finished burning the chair, sweeping the rest into the fire with magic and then sat back in his own.

Harry was quiet as well, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Did you love him?" he asked softly after a moment.

Voldemort scowled but didn't deny it.

"I am sorry," Harry whispered again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bath...


	23. Accused

Draco had let the Ministry know that Harry was willing to give evidence against Cormac McLaggen. Now, they were waiting in the hall for Harry's turn to testify. The two of them drew strange looks and Draco was reminded of his own, albeit brief, trial when he had returned to the country. He had had to pay a lot of money to keep that a quiet hearing instead of the media circus it would have been.

Harry was so nervous that he knew if Draco weren't sitting beside him, he would've run off already. "It won't take that long, right?”

Draco laid a hand on Harry's back, patting him. "You will do fine," he encouraged.

"I'm scared,” Harry said quietly, glancing over at the doors. "I'm scared of seeing him.”

Draco understood that. He didn't know that he could do much better if confronted with his father or Bellatrix. Luckily for him, they were dead. "I know, but remember that he can't hurt you now," he said.

"He'll still look at me ... and I hated when he did that," Harry whispered.

Draco nodded, rubbing his hand in a soothing circle against Harry's back.

The door opened and a woman in official Ministry robes looked toward them. "Mr Potter, they are ready for you now," she said.

Harry swallowed hard and moved to get up, reaching for Draco's hand.

Draco took his hand and helped Harry up. Then slowly released it, knowing he couldn't step into the witness circle. "I will be nearby," he reminded him.

Harry wanted Draco right next to him, but that wouldn't happen. He took another deep breath and walked into the room, keeping his head down.

Draco followed him in, taking a seat to the side as he was directed by the guard. Cormac was sitting in the accused box and the entire Wizengamot was assembled in front of them. A wizard in prosecutor's robes directed Harry to the centre chair.

"State your name for the record," the wizard at the podium said.

Harry took a seat and resisted the urge to pull his knees up to his chest. "Harry James Potter," he said softly.

"And do you know the accused?"

Harry nodded, glancing up to where McLaggen sat for only a short moment. "Yes."

"Tell us how you know him," the prosecutor instructed.

"First, from Hogwarts. But later, he ... he was one of the people who held me captive," Harry replied, staring hard at his own lap as he spoke.

"State the name of the person you are accusing," the man insisted, "and what crimes, if any, you witnessed him commit."

"Cormac McLaggen," Harry said, giving in and pulling his knees up to his chest so he could rest his chin on them. "He raped ... and … and murdered people ....”

Draco was clutching the arms of his chair, hearing the fear in Harry's voice. He wanted to go to him, tell him that he didn't have to do this. But he did. Not just for those lives he might save, but for Harry's sake and sanity.

"Did you witness these acts?" the prosecutor asked.

Harry nodded, taking another deep breath. "Yes. I did."

"Describe the events, dates, locations and people involved," the man insisted.

Harry's thin arms tightened around his legs and he nearly shook his head and gave up, but ... he thought of the girl who would have wanted him to put this man behind bars. "I don't know the dates and locations," he said quietly. "But, there were many times when I saw him murder people. Muggles, usually."

"Describe them," the prosecutor insisted.

"He killed them," Harry said, not sure how to go about explaining. "Brutally. There was one where … he ... cut her up and ....” He paused, unable to go on, images flashing in his mind. He trembled, swallowing bile.

"You mentioned rape," the prosecutor said. "Do you have direct knowledge of that crime?"

Harry was hoping it wouldn't be brought up again. "Yes ... he ... he." Harry had to stop again, rocking slightly in the chair. "He raped me," he finally said, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Was this a single incident?"

"No ... no, it was many times ....” Harry said, feeling ashamed.

There were shocked gasps and mutterings throughout the room. "The accused claims that any crimes he committed were against his will under Imperius. Do you have any reason to doubt that?"

"It wasn't possible for him to be," Harry said, shaking his head. "He was too ... natural at it. And Voldemort wasn't always around when he was ... hurting me. He gave me to him as a reward for the other things he did, other people he killed."

"How do you know that it wasn't something he had been ordered to do?"

"He liked it," Harry said simply, remember those laughs at Harry's suffering. "He enjoyed it all.”

There was more murmuring. Harry heard a kind of growl from McLaggen himself. It made Harry cringe and look up at him, trembling a little at the look on his face.

McLaggen's eyes narrowed, the look letting Harry know he would like to hurt him again. Harry knew that it wasn't very likely that McLaggen could get away and attack him right then, but the look still scared him, forcing him to look back down.

"Are you willing to give Pensieve evidence of the facts in this case, Mr Potter?"

The idea terrified Harry, the very thought of anyone seeing what he'd done, how debased he had become. But, if that's what he had to do to have them believe him, he would do it. "Yes, I'm willing," he said.

"Are there additional questions for this witness?" the prosecutor asked. A couple of hands went up.

A wizard Harry didn't know stood up. "What were you doing while these atrocities were being committed?"

"I tried to stop him," Harry said. "But I couldn't ....”

"Yet, you eventually destroyed Lord Voldemort. Why did that take so long?"

"I'm sorry I took so long," Harry said, looking at the man. "I didn't exactly have many chances while they were hurting me in the worst possible ways."

"You lying traitor," McLaggen sneered. "You raped that girl!"

Harry went still before he began shaking his head, looking wildly around at the Wizengamot and then stopping on McLaggen. "You forced me to do that!"

McLaggen leapt to his feet, glaring at Harry, and guards drew wands on him. After a couple minutes of shouting, they got him seated again.

Draco was on his feet too, but held his place. He stood tensely with his hands clenched on the banister in front of him, eyes only on Harry. "Harry," he called softly, while everyone was distracted during the scuffle.

Harry looked up, green eyes meeting Draco's grey. He wanted to run to Draco, to insist he take him home.

"I'm right here. No one will hurt you," Draco said softly.

Harry made himself shut out everyone else in the room until he calmed down, taking slow deep breaths, eyes only on Draco.

Finally, Draco nodded, sitting down again.

There was shuffling and murmuring in the court and the prosecutor looked nervous. "Mr Potter, what incident is the accused referring to?"

Harry forced himself to turn his attention back to the court. "Once ... he forced me to ... to do that to a Muggle," Harry managed to say. He had hoped this wouldn't be brought up. He felt his cheeks burn in shame at the memory.

"How did he force you to rape someone?"

"He said I had to do it or I would suffer more," Harry tried to explain, swallowing hard as he remembered that particular night.

"What happened when you did?" the prosecutor asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, looking a little confused. "When I ... did it?"

"Yes, tell us the circumstances."

"She was tied up," Harry started, bowing his head. "And I didn't want to do it, but he said that if I didn't he would ... kill her. And I couldn't have that happen!" He bit his lip, rocking a bit and taking a deep breath before he went on. "So I did it ... and ... while I was doing it ... he r-raped me again ..." Harry was sniffling then, struggling to get through his words.

"And after you did it, what did the accused do then?"

"He started to use a knife on her ... and I tried to stop him, but he hit me and I remember he broke my nose then," Harry said, unable to keep from crying now. "And he just ... he wouldn't stop no matter what I did ...."

"If you had known any way to stop him, would you have?"

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, looking up again. "He said he wouldn't kill her if I did that to her, and he was doing it anyway! I wanted to stop him ... I would have died to stop him if I could."

Draco could see how badly Harry was shaking and had to clench his own hands around the edge of his seat to keep himself from rushing to his side. Yet, he was also proud of Harry for facing this.

The prosecutor nodded, looking solemn and troubled. "Thank you for your testimony, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded and pressed his face against his knees, trying to wipe away the tears on his trousers.

The lead judge called a break in the trial and Draco jumped immediately to his feet, rushing to Harry's side.

"Fucking whore would do anything!" McLaggen screamed at Harry as he was led away by the guards. "You think you are so much better, but you begged for it!"

Harry's arms tightened around his legs as he cried harder, rocking in the chair. Now that the memory was in his head he couldn't get it out, no matter what he did. McLaggen's screaming only made it worse ... made it feel like he was back there.

Draco had the urge to pull his wand and hex the bastard McLaggen. He was probably lucky wands were taken before they were allowed into the Ministry. He hadn't felt this kind of anger in years. One of the only things that kept him under control was the knowledge that he had to remain calm for Harry. He bent to put an arm around Harry's shoulder. "You are safe, he can't hurt you now," he assured the sobbing man.

"But I can't forget," Harry managed to say as he gasped for breath. "I just can't ..."

"You don't have to forget; it's the past now and you survived," Draco assured him, ignoring the stares they were getting from others in the court.

Harry shook his head and turned blindly toward Draco, reaching out to wrap his arms around the man, hugging him and burying his face against his chest.

Draco petted the back of Harry's head, still holding him. He was aware of the mutterings and stares of other people. This was the first time they had ever touched each other in front of others in the wizarding world. Few people knew about their relationship and he realised that was about to change. "You told them, you have done what you needed to do," he soothed Harry.

Harry let out a deep, but shaky, breath. "I hated the way he looked at me," he said quietly.

So had Draco. "He is disgusting," he agreed. "But neither the guards nor I would let him touch you."

"I want to go home now," Harry mumbled after a few minutes, sniffling hard and pulling himself up, his arms wrapped tightly around Draco's neck now.

Draco helped him stand. "Yes, we can do that." He led Harry out of the courtroom.

Harry leaned against him as they walked towards the Floos, not wanting to see or talk to anyone else. He wanted to sleep and not dream like he usually did.

Draco held on to Harry protectively, shielding him from reporters firing questions at them as they left the court. He actually glared at a few who got too close, free hand tightening on his wand after they had collected their wands again. Finally, they made it to the Floo.

Once they Flooed home Harry felt only a little better. He stumbled out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place and swayed where he stood. "Sleep," he said quietly, looking up at Draco.

It was still early but Draco understood that Harry was exhausted from the experience and helped him up to the room.

Harry undressed and then pulled on his pyjamas before climbing into his bed and pulling a pillow close. "Come on," he said to Draco. He always preferred Draco next to him when he slept. Not just to stop the nightmares now, though it did lessen them, but because being held by Draco had become his favourite thing.

Draco smiled softly down at Harry's invitation. He loved holding the other man. He nodded and changed into his pyjamas too, climbing into the bed. "You did a good thing today," he whispered.

"Thank you," Harry sighed, turning to face Draco. "I don't want to do it again."

"No, not again," Draco agreed. "Hopefully McLaggen will be locked up." And, Draco thought, Harry had stood up for himself against one of his few surviving attackers. It was one of the steps in healing that could make a big difference.

"He has to be," Harry insisted. After all he had done, there was no way that man could be let free. "He just has to be ...."

"He will never hurt you again," Draco assured him, reaching to stroke Harry's hair.

"You'll keep me safe?" Harry asked as he started to doze off, the hand in his hair relaxing him.

Draco leaned in, kissing Harry's forehead. "Yes, safe," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hard to face that...


	24. Stretching

They woke up late in the evening, the sun having set and the house quietly creaking as it usually did. Draco lay holding Harry for a bit before he had Kreacher bring them supper in their room. They ate without talking much, but Draco was glad to see that Harry seemed to be doing well. Was it wishful thinking that some of the haunted look had left those green eyes? Draco watched carefully, noting that Harry even seemed to sit up straighter. And, of course, there was the fact that Harry was eating almost normally now.

"I don't think I'm tired," Harry said, pushing his plate away when he had finished eating. He cocked his head, giving Draco a small smile.

Draco smiled back. If Harry wasn't tired, did that mean that Harry was in the mood to be touched? Draco's heart sped up at the idea but he waited to see what Harry had in mind. He set the tray of dishes aside and stretched out beside Harry on the bed.

Harry looked towards Draco, trying to figure out how he really felt. "I think I feel kind of light. Like I got something off my shoulders. It's still there, but it isn't as heavy."

Draco nodded. "It feels good to do something about it, to let the secret go and move on," he agreed. He knew the theory, even if he hadn't been able to do that himself. Those who had abused him had all died before he had begun his own healing.

"Sorry I took so long to talk about it," Harry said. "I still don't like talking about it, but it felt like the right thing to do." Harry was surprised that such a thing still mattered to him now.

Draco rolled to face him, cupping Harry's cheek with one hand. "You have done remarkably well," he told him.

Harry blushed softly, and leaned in to kiss him. "Thanks to you," he said, breath mingling with Draco's.

Harry's kiss still made Draco tremble and he returned it gently, but passionately, fingers sliding back to entwine in Harry's hair.

Harry hummed as they kissed, reaching to grip Draco's shoulders lightly. After a few minutes he lay back on the bed, still kissing him.

Draco happily allowed himself to be pulled against Harry's body while gasping into his mouth at the feel of him.

Harry slid his arms around Draco and held him as close as he could, needing him. "Draco ....”

"Yes, Harry," Draco whispered, holding the other man and trying to remain calm despite his fast beating heart and the warmth that seemed to spread from Harry's body.

"Do you want to try?" Harry asked, biting his lip gently as he looked up at the blond. He felt the warmth in his body. It was desire, but it felt different than what the potion had caused. This was warm and right and made him feel more alive.

"Try?" Draco asked. He was not initiating this. He needed to know it was what the other man wanted before he did anything.

"Making love to me," Harry explained. The words sent a shiver down his spine and he felt his arousal stir.

"Oh, I always love making love with you," Draco purred. "But are you asking for me to ... enter you?"

Harry nodded slowly, beginning to feel a little nervous in spite of his desire.

Draco kissed him again, looking into his eyes. "I would be delighted, but tell me to stop if anything doesn't feel right," he explained.

"I will," Harry said, feeling his heart speed up. "And you'll stop ....” He knew Draco would, but somehow hearing him say it helped.

"I would never want to do anything with you that you didn't enjoy," Draco assured him.

"Okay,” Harry said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I'm ready.” He wanted more, wanted to feel the pleasure he knew was possible, but there was still part of him that tensed, completely frightened at the idea of it.

"Just let me touch you, let yourself enjoy it," Draco whispered and then began kissing and licking Harry's neck, fingers unbuttoning his pyjama top to caress his chest.

Harry let his head fall to the side, telling himself to relax and that Draco wouldn't hurt him like the others.

Draco removed Harry's pyjamas, laying soft kisses on his mouth and stroking his body, knowing by now all the places that were particularly sensitive and how to touch Harry. He sucked his nipples and stroked his skin, even kissing scars. He paused briefly to shed his own pyjamas then kept moving downward until he knelt between Harry's legs, nuzzling his cock.

Harry was completely relaxed by the time Draco moved down in between his legs, soft moans escaping him. He lifted his hips out of habit, silently asking for more. He felt like he floated in some kind of warm sea of feeling.

Draco's heart beat so fast he felt dizzy with it. He licked up the length of Harry's shaft, one hand gently cupping the man's balls. "Bend your knees," he whispered.

Harry trembled and did as Draco said, trying not to be afraid.

Sliding his mouth slowly over his lover's cock, Draco knew that the sensations would likely distract him from his fears.

Harry groaned at the wet heat surrounding his cock and raised his hips, hands moving to grip the sheets below them.

Draco’s mouth moved up and down his lover's shaft, sucking and licking as he did. He reached his fingers down, gently caressing Harry's perineum.

Harry whimpered softly and pressed down a little against the finger, surprised that he actually liked that feeling, whatever it was.

Encouraged by Harry's reaction, Draco continued stroking and moving downward until his fingers gently caressed Harry's opening.

Harry tensed and squeezed his eyes shut. Panic skittered throughout his body and he held his breath.

Draco swirled his tongue over the head of Harry's cock, moving the pad of one finger in the same motion against his tight opening.

Harry began to tremble again, feeling both Draco's mouth around him and the finger moving against him below. It felt so good, so different than it had ... before.

Draco gently drew back, licking along the shaft and then licking and sucking Harry's balls, finger still only gently caressing his opening.

Harry slowly relaxed and got used to the feeling, making soft noises every now and then. "Draco," he sighed, only so he could remind himself of who it was doing this to him.

Draco hummed against Harry's flesh, licking below his balls now until he reached his puckered opening. Moving his fingers aside to rest on the inside of Harry's thighs, he traced that opening with the tip of his tongue.

Harry jerked at the unexpected touch, his head snapping up. "What're you ... doing?”

Draco lay on his own belly now, his erection pressed hard against the sheets and his face between Harry's legs. He drew back just enough to whisper "Relax, love," before licking him again.

"But how can you?” Harry was shocked that anyone would want to do that, especially given ... he pushed the memory away and tried to focus on the sensations. He swallowed hard and lay back as the licks began to feel strangely good.

Draco licked and teased that opening until he felt Harry relaxing again. Then he pressed the tip gently into the centre.

Harry wanted to flinch at the pain he thought it would've caused, but he could only shudder. There wasn't any pain at all, in fact it felt good, _really_ good.

Draco wiggled his tongue into that tight hole, thrusting gently and feeling it open to him. He moaned in delight at Harry's response. Harry was opening to him, relaxing and letting himself feel. Draco knew how much trust that took for the other man.

Harry's eyes squeezed tightly shut as he panted in pleasure, chewing on his bottom lip. He never thought he could ever like something like this after all that had happened. Never.

Draco continued thrusting his tongue into his lover, reaching up to stroke Harry's cock again. He felt Harry's hips began to roll, trying to press down against Draco's tongue and thrust up into his hand at the same time. In response, Draco pressed the tip of one finger into Harry now, continuing to lick around it as he did.

Harry tensed slightly when he felt the finger, but it didn't feel unpleasant so he didn't tell Draco to stop yet. He wanted this, he reminded himself, panting harder.

Draco gently pressed in with his finger as he continued to stroke and lick.

Harry slowly got used to the new feeling, spreading his legs wider and shuddering in pleasure with the onslaught of sensations.

After a couple minutes of working his finger in and out, Draco pulled his hand away and picked up his wand, casting _Unguentatus_ , a Lubrication Charm.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at Draco, realising what he was preparing for. "Make it feel good.”

"Yes, love," Draco said, slipping the finger back into place and then adding a second one, kissing the insides of Harry's thighs as he did.

The second finger stretched Harry a little and it made him reach down to touch Draco's head. "Wait ....”

Draco stilled himself, pressing his cheek against Harry's thigh.

"Hurts a little," Harry whispered, gripping Draco’s hair and taking a few deep breaths.

"Relax and it will feel better," Draco said, licking Harry's balls again and stroking his shaft with his other hand.

"I am," Harry whispered, slowly letting go of Draco and laying back down on the bed. He tried to clear his mind, focusing only on the pleasure of his lover's touch. "Okay ... you can go on ....”

Draco began to gently move his fingers again, twisting to find that spot inside Harry.

Harry didn't know what it was that hit him so suddenly, a spike of unbelievable pleasure racing happily up his spine. He cried out and reached to grip Draco's shoulder, but not to stop him. "What ....”

Draco stopped, looking up and grinning. "Good?"

"Yes ....” Harry whispered, nodding slowly. "Why?"

"Why what?" Draco asked, moving his fingers again.

"Why's it feel good?" Harry gasped and sparks seemed to radiate from inside him, spreading out to light every nerve on fire.

"Supposed to," Draco said. "Part of our bodies."

But it never felt good before Draco. "I think ... you make it feel better," Harry whispered, smiling at him.

"Good," Draco said. Harry had relaxed a lot more now so Draco cautiously added a third finger, still caressing the man's cock as he did.

The uncomfortable stretching feeling was back and it made Harry groan deeply, biting his lip hard.

Draco made sure to rub his fingertips against Harry's prostate. "So beautiful, Harry," he whispered, so his lover could hear the sound of his voice.

Harry arched slightly as Draco's fingers continued to brush against that spot, distracting and overwhelming the slight burning sensation that came along with it.

"Yes, love, yes," Draco whispered. He continued to pump his fingers and stroke him, waiting for some indication that Harry was ready.

"I'm gonna come if you keep doing this ....” Harry warned Draco, his hips rising and falling with Draco's movements.

"You can come this way if you want," Draco said. "Unless you want more ....”

"I want you to come, too," Harry said.

"Don't worry about me. I love pleasuring you," Draco said. "If you want to come this way, I will keep going. If you want me inside you and you are ready, let me know."

Harry wasn't sure of what to do next. He wanted Draco to come with him, but at the same time, the thought of being penetrated that way still sent shivers of fear through him. "Can I ... I want to come like this for now ....”

"Yes, love," Draco said and, then, keeping his fingers inside him, he brought his mouth over his lover's cock.

Harry let out a long, low moan at the two sensations at once. He was already close, and he knew it wouldn't be much longer before he was coming.

Draco sucked and licked his lover's cock, panting through his nose, fingers stroking inside the man.

It only took Harry a few more minutes before he was crying out and coming, forgetting to warn Draco.

Draco loved the slick bitter taste, swallowing and licking his lover's come. He loved the feel of the man spasming around his fingers, his cock aching with the knowledge of how good it would feel to be inside him. He gently withdrew his slippery fingers from Harry's opening, smiling up at him now.

"Sorry," Harry whispered out of habit, still panting and staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe what he had just done. Something he thought he would've never liked ... and yet ... he almost wanted to ask Draco to do it again.

"No apologies for letting me do what I want," Draco whispered, kissing his lover's softening and still sticky cock.

"Thank you," Harry said a moment later, sighing happily when he felt Draco kiss him.

Draco got up on his knees and smiled down at Harry. His own cock stood erect and curling toward his stomach. He smiled as he reached a hand, still slick from Harry, downward to stroke himself.

Harry wanted to reach over and help, but instead he just watched, like he used to before they got together. Before he was allowed to touch.

"I love you looking at me, touching me, letting me touch you," Draco said as he wanked himself. "I love that you trust me enough to let me bring you pleasure." His breathing sped up now and he was panting as he got closer.

Harry could only bite his lip and nod, his eyes stuck on Draco's hand as his strokes quickened. No matter how many times he had seen the man do this, he would never get tired of it. He loved the way the blond’s eyes half closed and his lip curled as the pleasure intensified.

Draco's eyes never left Harry's face as he came, gasping and covering his own chest with his seed.

Harry gasped softly as well, astonished that Draco looked so beautiful when he came. Beautiful and free, he thought.

Draco sat panting for a minute, a contented smile on his face as he looked at Harry. Then he reached for his wand and cast _Lavare_ to clean both of them. "Now for the other part I love about sex with you," he said.

"The other part?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco crawled up beside him, pulling the covers up, too. "Holding you in my arms," he whispered as he reached to do just that.

Harry flushed and let Draco pull him close, snuggling up to him. "I like this part, too,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you?


	25. In Celebration

Draco woke early the next morning, Harry snuggled against him, and he smiled when he realised both of them had made it through the night without a nightmare waking them. He lay holding and petting Harry as sunlight filled the room.

Harry woke slowly and gently. It was a new experience. At first he just lay in Draco's arms as he gradually woke up completely.

"Morning, love," Draco whispered, kissing the top of Harry's head.

"Morning," Harry mumbled tiredly, reaching up to cover his mouth when he yawned.

"I could hold you forever." Draco nuzzled his lover’s black hair.

"Forever and ever," Harry said softly, feeling completely relaxed and safe. "Right?"

Draco reached fingers to tip Harry's face up, looking into his eyes. "You like that idea?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I think I do," Harry replied, blushing softly. "Do you?"

Draco smiled again, heart beating faster as his fingers began stroking Harry's lips. "Do you know how I feel about you?"

"Tell me," Harry whispered, wanting to hear him say it.

"I love you, Harry," Draco said, trembling at the confession. He had not expected to say it. Had told himself he wouldn't, but there it was.

Harry's eyes widened, waiting for Draco to say that he was joking, that he didn't really mean it. But after a long moment, nothing happened. Draco really did love him. He didn't know what to say.

"It's okay, Harry," Draco whispered, heart clenching painfully. "You don't have to feel that way about me. I will still take care of you."

"I just ... I don't get it," Harry said softly, frowning and chewing his lip. He didn't really. He didn't know why Draco was so nice to him, wanted him. The other man was beautiful and could probably have any number of people. Anyone else.

"You don't have to get it, Harry. Maybe I shouldn't have told you, but it is true," Draco said.

"Thank you for telling me," Harry told him, sliding his arms around Draco and hugging him.

Draco sighed, holding him for another minute. He tried not to feel disappointed. "Breakfast?" he asked.

Harry leaned back to look at Draco. He wasn't sure if he understood how it felt to love someone, and while he could've said that he loved Draco back, he wanted to be completely sure that he did. He hoped it wouldn't upset Draco. "Yes, okay."

They got up, dressed and went to breakfast. Kreacher had the meal waiting for them. When the _Daily Prophet_ came, Draco was almost afraid to look and sighed in relief when he saw the headline.

Harry leaned over a little to see what Draco was looking at to find out what was going on, his own heart beating fast in anticipation of news of the trial.

"You did it," Draco said, and held up the paper. The headline read: "McLaggen Gets Life in Azkaban."

Harry slowly began to smile, feeling happy and relieved at the same time. He would never have to face McLaggen again and the man wouldn't be able to kill anyone else. "That's great," he whispered, staring at the newspaper.

"So," Draco grinned, sitting down beside him. "Shall we go on that date tonight?"

"You wanted to go tonight?" Harry asked, his skin colouring in both delight and nervousness. "Where?"

Draco smiled, hand reaching for Harry's. "Anywhere you like," he promised. "We should celebrate."

"Well, I only went to that place in Hogsmeade on a date once," Harry said, remembering the disastrous one with Cho. "Maybe we can just go to the Three Broomsticks ... or the Leaky Cauldron."

"There are nicer places than those in the wizarding world," Draco observed. "Or we could even go to a Muggle place if you don't want to be recognised."

"I'd like that better," Harry breathed, looking up at Draco, feeling relief. "The Muggle place. Thank you.”

***

Draco made the arrangements, actually owling someone he knew from work to get the name of a Muggle restaurant. They couldn't go as upscale as he would like since they didn't own Muggles clothes that would fit in such a place. Finally, dressed in button-down shirts and pressed trousers, they were ready.

Harry was nervous about going out in public, but it wasn't as bad because he was thinking that no one would really know who he was.

"Just a couple of blokes out for dinner," Draco assured him as they stepped out of the house.

Harry smiled a little and nodded, squeezing Draco's hand. "Sure we are."

Draco grinned and then Apparated them to a quiet road a couple of streets from the restaurant. It was a little Italian place, good food and wine but not something that would catch attention. The Maitre d' seated them and handed them their menus.

Harry slowly looked through the menu, reading over each item. "I never know what to get," he said, biting his lip.

"Whatever you like, Harry," Draco assured him. The waiter arrived, telling them the specials for the evening.

Harry didn't even recognise much of what was on the menu and it made him nervous. He eventually chose spaghetti with clam sauce, holding out the menu for the waiter who smiled brightly at him.

Draco ordered the linguine with shrimp that was the special and Sauvignon blanc, a wine that would work with both their dishes.

"Never had wine before," Harry said as he watched the waiter walk away. He had a sudden flash of memory and pushed it aside. He remembered Voldemort had given him some wine laced with a potion, but that wasn’t something he was willing to even think about, let alone mention.

Both of Draco's eyebrows shot up at that comment. "Well," he said slowly, "there are many different types."

"I thought there was only the red one," Harry said, looking back at Draco.

Draco smiled, shaking his head. "Red is a colour, not a type," he teased. "And since we both ordered pasta with seafood, I have ordered Sauvignon blanc, a type of white wine. The name is French, and actually means 'wild white' because the green grapes it is made from are indigenous to Southwest France."

"Right," Harry said, nodding slowly. "White wine, then."

The waiter brought the wine and Draco went through tasting and approval, then lifted his glass to Harry. "A toast to your courage," he said softly.

Harry had a momentary flash to a toast he'd witnessed between Lucius and Voldemort. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he forced the memory away from him and lifted his glass as well. He took a small sip. "Thank you. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you," he told Draco.

Draco smiled, sipping as well. He wanted Harry to be well enough to do whatever he wanted to do in his life. But he also felt selfishly happy to be needed by him as well.

Harry took another sip, and settled back into his chair, deciding that he liked the wine. He ended up finishing his glass before Draco and set it down, reaching for the bottle to pour some more for himself.

Draco arched an eyebrow but didn't stop Harry as the man started on a second glass. The waiter brought their food. Harry did seem to be loosening up a bit with the wine. Maybe too much, Draco smirked, as Harry dipped his bread in the olive oil and managed to drip it on his shirt.

"Why do they call it wine?" Harry murmured, swirling the small bit he had left in the glass while looking closely at the nearly clear liquid. He was beginning to feel really loose and happy, like nothing could really ruin the night.

Draco smiled in amusement, realising the other man was drunk now. "It's from the Latin, vīnum," he answered.

Harry tried repeating it a few times to himself, stumbling over the word. "Weird ... wine does sound better."

Draco talked a bit about what it had been like to live in France. He had really enjoyed many aspects of it even if he had missed his home. They ate their pasta and Draco found it was surprisingly good. When the meal waiter brought the bill, Draco pulled out the Muggle money he had brought to pay with and spent a minute figuring out which bills were which.

Harry grinned up at the waiter when he came back and thanked him for the food.

Draco shook his head and got to his feet, reaching both hands to help Harry get up as if he weren't sure if the man would be able to, otherwise.

Harry wasn't as stable as he thought he would be, wobbling unsteadily. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, laughing a little.

Draco put an arm around Harry, leading him out. He ignored stares from some of the restaurant patrons. "Let me get you home," he said, voice full of affection.

"Home. Can we get more wine?" Harry asked as they left, leaning on Draco for support. "I really liked it. Did you?"

Draco grinned, nodding. "It was a nice wine and we can get more, but I think that is enough for one night," he said, leading Harry to a place between the buildings where he could Apparate them home. Once outside number twelve, he led him up the steps.

"Aww," Harry whined, wanting more wine right now. "Soon, then? Say yes ....”

"Yes, if you like," Draco agreed, opening the door and pulling Harry inside the house. He locked it behind them and began removing Harry's coat.

"Don't stop there," Harry said, his cheeks flushed as he watched Draco take off his coat.

"You want me to strip you right here in the hall?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Draco grinned and began to do just that, unbuttoning Harry's shirt and kissing his skin as he peeled back the fabric.

Harry bit his lip softly and let his head fall back, sighing at the feeling. "Trousers too," he whispered.

"I'll get there," Draco assured him, tossing Harry's shirt aside before sliding his hands over the man's chest and then down to the waist of the trousers. He bent to kiss him as he unfastened them.

Harry leaned up into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, wanting much more than he was getting at the moment. He felt hot and eager.

Draco managed the buttons and pushed them down with Harry's shorts over his hips, hands sliding back up his thighs and up his sides as he kissed him.

Harry shivered, his arms tightening around Draco as he stepped out of the clothes. "Upstairs?" he asked, sounding a little out of breath.

Draco didn't hesitate, pulling Harry tight against him and Apparating them to the bedroom.

Harry fell back on the bed with a laugh, reaching both hands out for Draco to join him.

The blond laughed and hurriedly stripped his own clothes off, climbing in after Harry.

Harry wanted Draco as close as he could be, wanting to feel his body against his own hot skin. "Draco ....”

"Yes, Harry," Draco answered, taking him into his arms and moaning at the feel of Harry's body sliding against his own. "Oh, yes."

Harry gently moved against him, kissing Draco along the curve between his jaw and his neck. "Draco, can I make love to you?"

"Yes, please," Draco whispered, lying back and pulling Harry atop him. It was exciting to have Harry so unguarded and eager.

Harry didn't want to wait very long as he reached for his wand and whispered the Lubricant Spell that Draco always said, then gently spreading Draco's legs and moving his fingers down to rub against his entrance.

"Gods, yes," Draco responded enthusiastically. Maybe a little wine was a good idea where Harry was concerned. His behaviour was so much more like the way Draco had imagined Harry would have been in bed without the trauma.

Harry slid two fingers inside, still not wanting to wait for Draco to adjust with just one. "I like how you feel," he said, leaning down to kiss his chest. "It's always so hot and tight ....”

Draco gasped, spreading his legs wider. "Yes, hot for you," he whispered, his own cock twitching against his belly. He reached to touch himself, helping him relax and ready himself for Harry.

"Only for me," Harry whispered, moving the fingers in and out of him quickly, needing to make sure that he was stretched enough before moving on.

"Yes, love, yes," Draco encouraged, arching his hips up, fingers sliding his own foreskin up and down as he panted.

Once his fingers were moving in and out easily enough, Harry cast _Unguentatus_ again, this time to slick himself. "You ready?" he asked, already moving up and positioning himself.

Draco looked up into those beautiful green eyes and smiled, nodding. "Yes," he whispered.

Harry smiled a little back, leaning down to press his lips against Draco's as he began to push inside of him, moaning at the fantastic feeling of Draco's body.

Draco's hands came up to grasp Harry's shoulders, fingers kneading flesh as he felt his lover's thickness filling him. It felt amazingly good, _right_ in a way he couldn't explain.

Harry waited until Draco adjusted before he began to move, rolling his hips in quick short thrusts.

Draco gasped, one hand reaching to stroke Harry's hair as he wrapped his legs around Harry's waist.

Harry's eyes were squeezed shut as he continued to thrust, panting hard. "I wish I could ... do this forever," he whispered, kissing Draco a few times.

"Yes, forever," Draco echoed, returning the kisses. He reached down again to grasp his own cock, pulling in time with Harry's thrusts now.

"Want you forever," Harry was groaning as he snapped his hips harder, hands tangled in the sheets as he gripped them on both sides of Draco's body.

"Yours," Draco agreed, panting quickly now as he got closer.

"Close," Harry warned, thrusting as hard as he could, burying his face in Draco's neck.

Draco stroked himself faster, feeling Harry's cock pulsing inside him. Then he came, his own body spasming and his hand wrapped around Harry's hair, holding him desperately against himself.

Harry came a moment after Draco, his back arching as he groaned out Draco's name.

"Oh, love," Draco whispered into Harry's hair, petting him and shuddering.

"Draco," Harry gasped over and over, shifting and letting himself slide out of Draco.

"Harry," the blond whispered, eyes closed as he lay happy and sated under his lover.

After a while Harry moved to lie down next to Draco, curling up with a yawn. "Sleepy," he whispered, resting his head on Draco's chest.

"I can imagine," Draco smirked, snuggling him and wondering if Harry had had enough wine to have a hangover in the morning.

Harry rubbed his cheek against Draco's chest before he slowly fell asleep, thinking about how wonderful his night out with Draco had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute sexy drunk Harry!


	26. Caught

Draco woke in his favourite position, curled around Harry with his face pressed against the other man's hair. Today they were naked and the feel of Harry's skin against his own had him aroused already. He thought he heard something and, turning his head, looked back over his shoulder toward the door. There, hand over her mouth and eyes wide in shock, was Healer Rodgers.

Draco's heart sped up and he had the urge to roll out of bed, only to realise that would expose him even more than being found like this.

When her eyes met his, Rodgers seemed to recover and her brows dropped, scowling. She brought her hand down. "Mr Malfoy," she snapped indignantly.

Harry blinked open his eyes when he heard a woman's voice, but he closed them as soon as the light hit them. He groaned and turned over so that he was facing Draco, pressing his face against the man's chest. He thought someone else was in there, but he didn't want to look up and see.

The sinking feeling in Draco's stomach made him feel as if he had been dropped down a hole. He felt the rise of panic. He swallowed hard. "Healer Rodgers," he began, and then took another deep breath. "Please wait for me downstairs. I will be right there."

"Immediately," she barked, then turned and left.

"Harry," Draco said softly. "I need to go downstairs."

Harry leaned back to look at Draco when he heard the woman's voice again, blinking up at him. "Why is she here?" he asked quietly, frowning. He hoped she wasn't here to take him back to the hospital.

"I forgot that they had planned to check your living conditions. I ... I just didn't think she would show up unannounced like this," Draco tried to explain, heart pounding. He kissed Harry's forehead and then moved to get out of bed.

Harry moved to get up as well, the sheet falling away from his chest. "Do I come with you?" he asked, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Draco pulled clothes out of the wardrobe. They had fallen asleep, not only in each other's arms, but naked as well. There was no doubt now about Rodgers knowing what that meant. "You get dressed and I will come up for you after I have talked with her," he assured Harry.

Harry didn't like the sound of that, but he nodded, moving to get out of the bed. He stopped when he reached the edge, though. "My head hurts a little," he said to Draco as he sat there, watching him.

Draco smiled. "Too much wine," he said. He pulled out his potions bag and selected a vial, handing it to Harry. "This should help."

Harry took the potion. Despite knowing that Draco would never give him something that would hurt him, he still hesitated for a long moment before he drank it.

"Very good," Draco encouraged as he finished buttoning his shirt. He gave Harry a quick kiss before heading for the door. He tried not to show how worried he was as he smiled back at him. "I had better go talk with her now."

Harry nodded, looking worried again. "It's not so bad, right? You're not my Healer anymore ... so." He bit his lip and stood up to get dressed.

Draco didn't want to lie to Harry but he was worried about upsetting him. "I think it will be okay," he said. "You get dressed and I will be back up soon."

"Alright," Harry said, finding a pair of jeans and carefully pulling them on. He didn't think he could just stay in this room while they talked, so he was thinking of sneaking out despite what Draco told him.

Draco made his way down the stairs and found Rodgers waiting in the sitting room. She was standing and looking out the window but turned when he entered. Her face was pinched and angry. "Mr Malfoy," she said again. "Do you have a good reason as to why I shouldn't immediately call the Ministry and have you arrested?"

Draco winced. "I know this looks bad," he said.

"Were you or were you not naked in bed with your patient?" she hissed.

He knew it was no use to argue that Harry was no longer his patient. The rules didn't just apply to their current relationship. "I am in love with him," he admitted. "I didn't intend ...." He stopped. This wasn't helping his case and he didn't know what would.

"You have taken advantage of a mentally and emotionally vulnerable patient," she insisted, voice raising now. "I don't know how you can even think to justify that!"

Harry dressed and made his way down the stairs. He held back in the hall, listening. He didn't think Draco had taken advantage of him; he did anything but that.

Draco was shaking. "I know the rules. Yet, I did explain, before you insisted I take this case, that I was too personally involved. And I removed myself from the case as his Healer when I realised I couldn't keep my distance," he explained.

"You should have not only taken yourself off the case, but out of this house!" she declared.

Harry couldn't take it anymore and stepped into the room. "Please stop it," he said to the woman.

Draco turned, heart clenching as he saw his lover. "Harry, you were supposed to wait upstairs."

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured to Draco, not looking away from the Healer who had interrupted their time together. "But you have to stop. Draco's done ... he's done so much for me."

Rodgers frowned. "Mr Potter, I am not angry with you. You haven't done anything wrong and I know you may feel you owe Mr Malfoy."

"I don't feel that I need to owe him anything," Harry said, trying to be firm. "Draco made it clear that I didn't have to do that. I'm not doing that."

Draco was surprised at how calm Harry actually was. He couldn't help but be proud of him in some small way. It seemed standing up to McLaggen had had an even bigger impact than he knew.

"Mr Potter, your health and welfare are my responsibility. Mr Malfoy has broken very important rules that are there to protect you," she explained.

"My health and my welfare? You take him away from me, and I'll be devastated. Don't you care about my happiness, too? I don't have anyone of my own. Do you know how that feels? To not have parents, or any kind of family like that. I never had this chance before, and you have to believe me. Please ..." Harry swallowed and looked down, feeling his eyes burn with tears.

Rodgers looked uncomfortable and glared at Draco. Draco reached a hand out to touch Harry's arm. "Healer Rodgers," he said, "I know you are angry and that I have broken the rules. Can I suggest that I come into your office at another time to discuss the matter instead of now?"

Harry was still afraid that Draco would be ordered to leave. "Please don't take him away, please!" he cried out, turning to grip Draco's shirt.

Rodgers looked concerned now and seemed at a loss regarding what to do. "I suppose I can see the rest of the house another time," she said grudgingly. "Mr Malfoy, I will expect you in my office tomorrow when Mr Potter comes in for his session with Healer Dodson."

Draco nodded to her, but focused his attention on Harry. He hesitated briefly, but figured at this point there was no use hiding, so he wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Shhh, it will be okay, Harry," he soothed.

"You promise?" Harry asked and looked up at him, his eyes wet with tears.

Draco led him over to the sofa, ignoring the other Healer now. "We will find a way," he assured him, but felt relieved when Rodgers turned and left the room, heading to the Floo.

Harry nodded, curling up against Draco when they sat down. "I don't like her," he whispered finally, sighing.

Draco nodded. "I suppose not," he agreed, smiling a little as he petted Harry's hair.

"I need you here with me," Harry continued to softly say. "Why can't she see that?"

Draco took a deep breath. "The rules are there to protect patients," he tried to explain. "I broke the law." Draco also worried that he had made Harry dependent upon him. Yet, wasn’t that better than where Harry had been before? Or was Draco being selfish?

"Yeah, well. I don't know what I'd do without you now," Harry mumbled, huffing. "But what will happen to you?"

"I need to contact my solicitor and see what my legal status is, but I seriously doubt that the staff at St Mungo's would want this made public," Draco explained.

"So, that means what?" Harry asked, leaning back to look up at the other man. "They'll fix it quietly?"

Draco carded his fingers gently through Harry's messy hair. "Well, I am probably never going to work at St Mungo's again. But if they arrested me, the publicity would be bad for the hospital too. After all, they did push me to take the case of someone I already had feelings for."

"I'm sorry," Harry sighed. In some way he felt that it was his fault for putting Draco in this situation. He moved and laid down again, his head resting on Draco's lap this time. He was still a little tired, but his head wasn't hurting anymore. "I hope they don't make things change," he murmured. It frightened him to think about going back to living without Draco.

Draco worried, too. He didn't know how the staff at St Mungo's would handle his living arrangements with Harry now. Harry was still a ward of the court, which meant he didn't have the right to choose. It was something else Draco decided to see if his lawyer could help with. "I am right here beside you, love," Draco assured him.

***

Draco Floo-called his solicitor, Mr Benson, a little later and talked about his options. The man's legal advice was that Draco immediately tender his resignation from St Mungo's. Meanwhile, the lawyer would represent Draco if there were any disciplinary action attempted. In addition, the solicitor would be willing to file papers on Harry's behalf to get the man declared competent again.

Draco ended the call and turned back to Harry. "So what do you think?" he asked him.

"I like what he's going to do," Harry said, looking at him from where he sat. He hadn't realised until recently what his legal status was and he found that he didn't like it. "I'm not a child anymore, I don't want to be treated like one."

Draco pulled up a chair and sat down beside Harry. "Well, when you were unable to respond to people, someone had to make decisions for you. You didn't have any remaining wizarding family, so they made you a ward of the Ministry. But now, you can request they give you back control of your life. If you want that."

Harry thought that over again, biting his lip gently. He wanted that control, he guessed, but it still made him a bit nervous. "I ... I want to try," he said, nodding.

Draco reached to cup Harry's cheek. "You have made such amazing progress in the last few months," he assured him.

"Do you think I'm ready to have control of my life again?" Harry asked, trusting that Draco would be honest.

Draco wanted to immediately reassure Harry, but paused, making sure to think before he answered. "I think control is something you can take step by step rather than all or nothing. I think you are well enough to take legal control, to participate and make decisions about your own therapy," Draco explained. "You will probably still need therapy for a while but that doesn't mean you can't make choices about how you want to live your life."

Harry smiled a little, reaching to take Draco's hands in his. "Then I really want to try. Even if it takes a long time," he said, squeezing his hands.

***

The next day they dressed and headed to St Mungo's. Harry had been having weekly sessions with Healer Dodson. Draco smiled encouragingly at Harry as the man made his way into the Healer's counseling room before turning to go to his own meeting with Healer Rodgers.

Harry stepped into the therapy room and made his way to the sofa that he always sat on, waving a little at the Healer.

"Hello, Harry," Dodson said, smiling reassuringly at him. "How are you doing?”

"I'm okay," Harry replied, settling down in one corner of the sofa and looking over at her.

"You want to tell me what happened yesterday?" she asked.

Harry shook his head, looking a little uncomfortable about that. "Do I have to?"

"I think it is important to do so," Dodson said. "How am I to evaluate and help you with how your life is going if you aren't willing to talk about it?"

Harry sighed, looking down at his lap. "The other Healer came to see Draco and me," Harry said quietly.

"Yes, and ...." she prompted.

"She saw us sleeping together," Harry continued.

"Sleeping or having intimate contact?" Dodson asked.

"We were sleeping when she came in," Harry insisted, his cheeks colouring. "But, before that, I guess, it was more ... intimate."

"So your relationship with him is sexual? How do you feel about that?" It was clear she was struggling to remain neutral in tone.

"I liked it and I wanted him to, if that's what you're asking me," Harry answered.

"Were you aware that it was against the rules for him to allow that?"

Harry wasn’t sure if he had known or really understood that at first, despite the fact that Draco did tell him. "Yes, I'm sorry," he said softly.

"The mistake isn't yours, Harry," she assured him. "Malfoy is supposed to be a professional and put your needs first. I am worried that you will suffer because of what he did."

Harry frowned and looked up at the woman, scowling a little at her words. "I'm not suffering because of anything he did. In fact, I'm doing a lot better because of him and only him."

"You _are_ doing so much better. I am concerned as to what would happen if he leaves, though," she explained.

Harry shook his head and looked down again, not sure what to say about that. He thought that if he reacted badly, they would take Draco away from him for sure. "I won't like that," he said after a few minutes.

"Who initiated the physical contact?" she asked.

"I did," Harry answered, remembering that part clearly.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I wanted to know how it felt, without there being ... pain," Harry admitted.

Her eyes widened a bit. "That makes sense," she said. "How did it go?"

"Good," Harry said, blushing again. "Very good."

"Given your history, it is amazing that you can allow that kind of touch," she said.

"I was really scared, but ... I wanted to know," Harry said, looking up at her again. "Draco was kind enough to show me. Now he's giving me the affection that I've been craving, and ... I'm ... okay."

"That is encouraging," she said. "Have you seen any of your friends?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a small nod. "They visited us a few times."

"What was that like?"

"In the beginning, I was nervous, but ... I missed them," Harry said, smiling a little. "I think I got better at talking to them the more times they came. Draco says we can go see Ron and Ginny play Quidditch."

They talked for a little while longer about his friends and his plans to go out more. He even mentioned going out to dinner at a Muggle restaurant, though he didn't mention getting drunk. She seemed to find his trips out even more encouraging.

***

Draco took a deep breath before knocking on Healer Rodger’s door. She called out “enter” and he did. She was there but so was Healer Braddock, one of the other wizards on the supervisory staff. Draco tensed. Braddock was also the head of the disciplinary committee.

“Mr Malfoy, you know Healer Braddock,” Rodgers said, gesturing toward the chair across from them for Draco to sit.

She had said “Mr” not “Healer” and Draco knew that was a very bad sign. Nor did Braddock offer his hand to Draco. Draco nodded but didn’t sit down. Instead, he pulled out a scroll from his pocket, handing it to Rodgers.

“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing it warily before taking it.

“My letter of resignation from St Mungo’s,” Draco answered, and both the Healers’ frowns deepened.

Rodgers unrolled the scroll and briefly read it, then passed it to Braddock, who glanced over it. “You do know this doesn’t settle the matter?”

“And how do you propose to settle it?” Draco said in what he hoped was a calm voice as he took his seat.

The other two exchanged looks before sitting down as well. “Criminal charges could be brought against you for the abuse of a patient under the Ministry’s care,” Braddock said, clearly watching for Draco’s reaction.

Draco simply arched an eyebrow. “While possible, I do believe that would be quite messy for the hospital,” he responded.

“Regardless of your history, you took the case,” Rodgers insisted. “If you didn’t think you could follow your Healer’s oaths, you should have refused.”

Draco snorted. “I did refuse. And as a beginning Healer here, I wasn’t really given the option. You said, and I quote you on this Healer Rodgers, that ‘the patient's needs are more important than protocol.’”

Her face turned red. “And that justified taking advantage of him sexually?” she asked, voice shrill.

“I will not justify my behaviour .…”

“Good,” she snapped.

“… but I will say that I did not initiate the physical aspects. The important thing here is that Potter is doing better now than at any time since before his capture,” Draco finished.

Braddock raised both eyebrows. “You think the end justifies the means?”

“I believe that was the instruction given to me by this department,” Draco retorted. “Yet, it wasn’t my entire motivation here. I have known Potter half my life and I have … strong feelings for him. I wanted him to be happy. I am in love with him.”

“We could have you removed from Potter’s home or have the patient returned to St Mungo’s for supervised care,” Rodgers said, face still pinched in anger.

“Solicitor Benson is prepared to file an injunction on Harry’s behalf if you attempt that,” Draco said.

Both their eyes widened and Rodgers was gripping the arms of her chair, anger clear in her features. “You are no longer his Healer. How dare you presume to dictate his care,” she hissed.

Draco allowed himself a small smile. “I am not,” he replied. “Your patient is getting better and wants more control of his life. He wants to remain in his home and to continue to improve.”

“I am sure the recommendation of the staff here would be would take precedence over yours, in any legal argument,” Braddock countered.

“Yes, because they did so well with Potter before,” Draco drawled. “I have provided a copy of Potter’s complete file to Solicitor Benson, including my report that charges this hospital with negligence and mismanagement of his care long before I arrived back in England.”

“How dare you!” Rodgers hissed and Braddock held up a hand to quiet her.

The older Healer considered Draco for a minute. “How, in your opinion, was the case mishandled?” Braddock asked.

Draco nodded. “First, the initial report of Potter’s injuries made it clear that he had suffered prolonged and multiple forms of torture. Yet, St Mungo’s staff treated his physical wounds and released him within a month of being admitted. Only a cursory attempt was made to get him to discuss what happened. He was discharged without any plan to follow up on his care.”

“The hospital was full of patients in severe distress, victims of the war and You Know Who’s regime,” Rodgers responded.

Draco nodded. “Regardless, the one who had saved everyone from Voldemort and his followers was not given the treatment he needed, let alone deserved.”

“He had insisted on being discharged,” Rodgers said.

“Yes, he did,” Draco said. “A teenager who had been through more trauma than any one person could be expected to endure insisted he wanted to go home, despite the fact that he didn’t have a family to go home to, and this institution let him do so without even a single follow-up visit. In fact, it wasn’t until he withdrew from everyone, even his closest friends, that he got any help. And it was those friends, not anyone in the Ministry, who found him and brought him here for treatment. Only then, did this department begin his treatment. If he had received treatment early when he could still respond, it may have saved him years of torment.”

Both of the other Healers looked stunned by his argument. Draco could tell they knew he was right. Rodgers wanted to argue against it, but Braddock was nodding. “I see your point, Mr Malfoy,” he acknowledged. “But aren’t you asking that the hospital send him home again without supervision?”

“No,” Draco responded. “I am pointing out that now that Potter is able to participate in his own treatment, that he continue to be given that chance. Let him continue coming here for therapy as long as he is willing. But if he is going to make a life for himself, he needs the chance to make decisions for himself again. And he won’t be alone this time.”

“You will be there?” Rodgers insisted. “What if you abandon him?”

Draco almost laughed at the way she was angry with him for staying one minute and now accusing him of the opposite the next. “I won’t. Yet, that isn’t the issue. The issue is that Potter is doing better in his own home. If my presence is actually helping him, it would be a mistake to interfere with that. Such an emotional loss at this point could cause a relapse.”

“And if the hospital disagrees with you?” Braddock asked, though Draco was sure by then that the man did, in fact, agree.

“Then Potter does have the right not only to challenge that decision but to seek legal redress for the mismanagement of his case in the past,” Draco replied.

“Threatening to sue us if you don’t get your way?” Rodgers demanded indignantly.

Braddock frowned at her and Draco shook his head. “I think you underestimate both Potter’s will in this and the legal situation,” he replied smoothly.

Rodgers opened her mouth to reply but Braddock caught her eyes, shaking his head. The older wizard stood. “We will take all of this into consideration, Mr Malfoy,” he said, holding out his hand to Draco.

Draco stood and shook Braddock’s hand, ignoring Rodgers who sat there looking gobsmacked. “Thank you,” he replied.

He made his way out of the office and couldn't help but grin once he was in the hall. Harry came out a few minutes later and they made their way to their home.

Draco knew this meant he would never work again as a Healer at St Mungo's, or possibly anywhere else for that matter. He realised that his reasons for becoming one had always been personal, driven by his feelings of guilt and failure. Draco thought it ironic, and somehow fitting, if the only person he ever managed to help as a Healer was Potter, the Saviour of the wizarding world, one of the people most damaged by the war and the man Draco loved. If losing his career as a Healer was the price for that, he was satisfied that it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco is still Slytherin!


	27. Burnt

Voldemort didn't eat or speak again that night. After staring into the fire for a while, he rose from his chair and went to bed, leaving Harry unchained and sitting by the hearth. Harry slowly lay down and curled up in front of the fire, enjoying that he wasn't chained up like he always had been. Yet, it wasn't long before the pain began to build in Harry's body, forcing him to groan and open his eyes. "Hello?" he asked, uncurling and crawling over to the bed where Voldemort slept.

Harry almost wanted to climb onto the bed and wake him up, but he decided against it, not wanting to get onto his bad side once again. He bit his lip in resignation and lay back down, trying to settle down for yet another night of constant pain. Harry didn't sleep much, but he was used to that. He lay curled up and trembling on the floor, little whimpers and groans coming from him every now and then.

Finally, Voldemort stirred, sitting up in his bed. "Come here," he ordered.

Harry looked up before he reached for the bed, cautiously pulling himself up onto it. Voldemort pulled the covers back and gestured at his own half hard cock. Harry swallowed and moved up, leaning down to pull the Master's cock into his mouth.

Voldemort was much less responsive than he had been in the past, red eyes staring up at the ceiling while Harry sucked him. When his cock was hard, he pushed Harry off roughly. "Now," he said.

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and moved up once again, straddling Voldemort this time, reaching back to position the cock against himself before pressing down on it, breathing out a soft sigh.

Voldemort tensed but otherwise didn't move. "Get on with it," he snapped.

Harry didn't wait to be told twice and he began to move, rising and falling as quickly as he could. Voldemort just lay there, breathing speeding up and fingers curling into the covers until he came with a hiss, then shoved Harry off of him, and Harry fell onto his side, gasping softly to himself, still in pain. "Want to come, please .... "

Voldemort looked at him for a moment, apparently deciding whether to give him relief or not. Then he nodded briefly and the spell released Harry momentarily as he came with a small cry, noticing even then how quickly Voldemort had released the spell, hardly making him beg at all. Harry wondered how long this new behaviour would last.

Voldemort even allowed him breakfast without begging again. Harry was re-chained as usual afterwards but instead of being tied up in the corner of the hall, the Dark Lord kept him nearby throughout the day.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked quietly, looking up at Voldemort later that evening when they were back in his bedchambers.

"Doing what?" the Dark Lord sighed, as he picked at his food. He had allowed Harry to take a plate of food to the floor.

"Being so nice," Harry murmured, looking down at his food.

"I am not nice," the man answered. "Would you prefer to go back to starving and being passed around?"

"No," Harry replied quickly, paling at the idea. "I just ... I ... thank you."

"I don't want your thanks," Voldemort sneered, but it lacked real heat. He got up from the table and went to his chair. "Come here."

Harry pushed away the almost still full plate and crawled over to where Voldemort was, kneeling in front of him. The man reached a hand out and gripped Harry's chin, turning his face one way and then the other as if really looking at him.

"Do you like being a Death Eater whore, Harry?"

"No," Harry replied softly, closing his eyes as Voldemort examined him.

Voldemort reached down and wrapped his fingers around Harry's erection. "Yes, you do," he insisted.

Harry winced and flushed, looking ashamed. "I don't .... "

"You want me to stop?" Voldemort answered with a smirk, stroking Harry's cock.

Harry swallowed hard and shook his head quickly. "Please don't .... "

"You are a whore, _my_ whore," Voldemort insisted. "Say it."

Harry bit his lip, struggling with himself. He didn't want to say it, but he didn't want Voldemort to stop. "Your whore," he finally said quietly.

"Again, louder," Voldemort hissed, hand moving faster on Harry's cock.

"Your whore," Harry repeated, his voice raising a little as his hips began to move.

"That's better," Voldemort said approvingly, fingers stroking Harry's face with one hand and his cock with the other. "Shall I fuck you, my whore?"

"Yes, please," Harry whispered, beginning to whimper now. "Please, fuck me."

Voldemort released Harry's cock and pushed him away, getting to his feet then and stripping his robes. Harry slowly got up and moved over to the bed, bending at his waist over the edge. He moved his hands up above his head and gripped the sheets, bracing himself.

"You hungry for my cock, whore?" Voldemort asked as he stood behind him.

"Yes, please," Harry moaned softly, arching his back a little to raise his arse again.

Harry felt him then, pushing in. Harry scrunched up his face, expecting a lot of pain, but it really wasn't as bad as it could've been. Voldemort had apparently slicked himself, so while it still hurt, it was easier than usual.

Voldemort seemed inclined to take his time, each thrust deep and slow. The only sounds he made were his breath and the sound of his skin slapping against Harry's. He dug his nails into Harry's hips as he did. Harry didn't want to like it ever, but he never did have a choice. When he was raped he could only just wait for it to be over. But now, with the way Voldemort was moving, Harry was disgusted to think that he was enjoying it, even beginning to move his hips with him.

After a while, Voldemort thrust in with a hiss, flooding Harry with his seed and then pulled off him nearly immediately. Harry gasped softly when the Master pulled out, his cheek pressed against the bed. He wanted to ask for more, but he didn't.

Voldemort cast _Lavare_ to clean himself and climbed into the bed and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

Harry waited a few more moments, chewing on his lip in the silence before he boldly moved up on the bed and crawled over to Voldemort, stopping next to him. "Can I come?"

Voldemort looked startled, like he had forgotten Harry was there. He frowned and then nodded, "I suppose a good whore deserves his reward." He waved his hand and the binding on Harry's cock eased enough for his release.

Harry moaned as he came, feeling a little more pleasure than usual because he didn't have to wait for a very long time to come. He lay down on the bed without thinking and curled up. Voldemort didn't tell him to move and Harry actually managed more rest than he had received in such a long time.

***

Harry had continued to see Healer Dodson. Without the threat of Draco being taken from him, Harry seemed to be relaxing and talking more with her. Yet, it was still Draco he felt most comfortable telling his nightmares to. Draco who he felt understood him.

Draco had taken portions of Harry's file from St Mungo’s and never returned them. He updated the record for his own use but, for Harry's sake, felt it would be better if there weren't a record of all the things he had told Draco.

The blond was sitting at the desk in the study when he heard the knock on the front door. Harry was in the sitting room, but he didn't think it good he be alone with anyone who came to the door, so Draco went to answer it.

Harry looked up from where he sat, glancing curiously at the door. He didn't remember Draco telling him about any visitors today. Usually they knew the day before so that Harry had time to prepare himself.

Draco closed the door to the sitting room so that whoever it was wouldn't see Harry unless they were invited in. Then he opened the front door.

Remus Lupin stood there. His eyes narrowed a bit but he nodded. "Malfoy, I heard you were living here," he said gruffly.

"I am," Draco answered, but didn't open the door further.

"I would like to see Harry," Remus said, looking over Draco's shoulder.

Draco frowned. "Wait here and I will see if he is available," he said and closed the door, leaving the man standing on the front steps. He took a deep breath and stuck his head into the sitting room to check on Harry.

"Who is it?" Harry asked, uncurling his legs and getting up.

"Remus Lupin," Draco said softly. "He wants to talk to you."

Harry nodded slowly, remembering his old teacher. "Okay, I haven't seen him in a long time."

"Do you want to talk with him alone or do you want me in the room?" Draco asked.

Harry bit his lip softly, thinking it over. "I want you in the room, too," he said, nodding firmly.

"As you wish," Draco said, smiling and then returning to the door. Lupin looked annoyed but came in and Draco took his coat, hanging it up nearby before showing the older man into the sitting room.

"Harry," Remus said, glancing nervously at Draco. "It is so good to see you."

Harry looked a little nervous as well, more so because he wasn't sure of what Remus would be expecting when he saw him. "It's good to see you, too," he said softly, stepping closer and holding out a hand for him to shake.

Remus' eyes seemed shiny as he took Harry's hand and then drew him closer into a kind of awkward hug.

Harry tensed for a moment before he relaxed, sliding an arm around Remus to hug him back.

Remus' breath hitched in a kind of sob and he wiped his eyes as he stepped back from the hug. "Last time I saw you, you didn't even know who I was," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling ashamed for that.

"No, Harry, it's okay, I understand," Remus said.

"You are welcome to sit," Draco said from near the door. "I have told the elf to bring us tea."

"Kreacher," Harry corrected out of habit, turning to walk back into the room to sit down.

Remus sat down in a nearby chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "So tell me how things have been for you, Harry," he prompted.

"They've been good," Harry said, sitting down across from Remus. "I've been getting better. One day I hope I'll be normal again, or at least somewhat okay.”

Draco smirked at Harry's correction and came to sit near him on the sofa.

Remus glanced uncomfortably at Draco as if nervous about his presence. "What changed?" he asked. "Hermione sent me an owl telling me that you were here now. What happened?"

Harry glanced at Draco as well, smiling softly. "Draco happened," he whispered.

Remus' eyes grew wide and he looked confused. "I ... I don't understand."

"He was my Healer," Harry said, blushing a little at his obvious confusion. "He helped me talk about what happened."

" _Was_ your Healer? What is he now?" Remus asked, glancing again at Draco, clearly uncomfortable asking with the man sitting there.

"My ... my lover," Harry murmured, biting his lip.

Remus blushed too, and Draco smiled. Remus opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. After a minute he seemed to come to some decision and nodded.

"Thank you," Harry said softly, grateful that he just accepted it without any anger.

"I understand we all have to move on," Remus said, a little sadly. "I am glad of whatever, and whoever," he said, looking at Draco, "that is helping you."

Kreacher arrived with tea, muttering about werewolves as he did. Draco poured for all three of them, handing their guest his cup and then serving Harry.

"What are you doing these days?" Draco asked.

"I am teaching at Hogwarts," Remus answered. "Headmistress McGonagall rehired me when the school opened again."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked, taking a small sip of his tea.

"Yes, and head of Gryffindor House," Remus answered with a smile.

The thought of that made Harry grin, something that rarely happened. He felt almost normal talking like this. "That's great, Remus."

"Did you hear there are plans for a memorial to honour those who died in the war?" Remus asked.

Harry shook his head, having not been reading the newspaper as often as Draco. "When?"

"It's still in the planning stages and there are arguments about whose names will be listed," Remus explained.

"Why are there arguments?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Well," Remus looked upset, hands fidgeting in his lap, "some people's bodies were never found. It's presumed they died in the war but they are still listed as missing. Like ... like Tonks."

Harry's frown deepened as the mention of Tonks brought up something familiar in his mind, but he couldn't tell what yet. "They didn't find anything?"

Remus shivered. "No, the Order thinks Death Eaters caught her and killed her in retaliation for the raid that killed Lucius ....” Remus froze, his eyes widening when he realised he had just said that in front of Draco Malfoy.

Draco's hand shook and he did his best to put the teacup down before he spilled the tea. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Harry flinched visibly at the words, setting his cup down with a trembling hand. That sounded much too familiar and it was scaring Harry. It was scaring him a lot. "But there ... there must've been something ....” He paused when it all suddenly came rushing back at once, making him gasp out loud as he went still. He remembered her being dragged in, the screams, how he tried to help her .... Harry covered his ears and shook his head, hearing Tonks' screams loud in his ears as if he were back there.

Draco was pulled out of his own reaction by Harry's behaviour, moving to his side quickly. "Harry, what is it?"

But Harry couldn't hear Draco's words. All he could hear was Tonks' screams of agony. He wanted to help, he did, but he couldn't, he couldn't get away. ”Stop it," he moaned, shaking violently.

Remus reached for Harry but Draco moved between them and got to his knees in front of Harry. "Harry, it's Draco, I am right here and you are safe," he said firmly. "Tell me what you are remembering. It's the past, not now."

"They're hurting her," Harry whispered, angry tears running down his face. "I can't stop it!”

"Hurting Tonks?" Draco asked. Remus was quiet behind him.

"She's screaming so much," Harry sobbed, sliding down off the sofa and curling up tightly into himself on the floor.

Draco laid his hand on the small of Harry's back, lightly, so that he could feel him but not so much that it felt like someone trying to grab him. "The Death Eaters?"

And just as quickly as the screams began they were done, and it was quieter in Harry's head. Not completely silent; he could hear the few Death Eaters' laughs, and then he heard Voldemort's command to have her burned. "They ... they burned her body," Harry whispered.

Draco shivered and nodded. "So she is dead, you saw it," he said. Behind him he heard Remus quietly begin to sob.

Harry covered his face with his hands, feeling the anger and frustration that he felt that night. The worst part was that his memory didn't stop then, it kept racing throughout his mind creating chaos. It was almost as if Remus mentioning Tonks was the missing piece of the puzzle that made everything work again. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. At the moment he didn't.

"Keep talking Harry, tell me what you are remembering," Draco encouraged softly, rubbing his hand in a small circle on his lover's back.

Harry shook his head, not wanting to talk about anything more. Especially not in front of Remus like this.

Draco glanced between Harry and Remus. "Maybe you could come back another day," he said softly to the older man.

Tears were running down Remus' cheeks and he blinked, startled. "Oh," he whispered.

Harry forced himself to sit up and turn towards Remus, his eyes blurry with tears as he got up and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him. "I'm so sorry," he said quickly before pulling away and turning to run out of the room and upstairs.

"Harry," Remus whispered, watching him leave.

Draco had no time to spare to deal with Lupin. "I need to take care of him," he said, and followed Harry, leaving Remus in the sitting room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It comes tumbling out now!


	28. The Burden of Memory

Over the next couple of weeks, they seemed to fall into a pattern in which Harry hardly left the Dark Lord's side. Some of the others actually even grumbled about the lack of their 'fuck toy', but fell silent after Voldemort cast Cruciatus on one stupid enough to do so within his range of hearing.

"Come here, pretty whore," Voldemort said, having settled into the chair after dinner with Harry lying beside the fire again.

Harry got up and crawled over to where he sat, moving close enough so that he could rest his head on Voldemort's leg. Voldemort allowed him to rest like that for a while and then drew his robes back. Harry lifted his head and obediently leaned in to suck him into his mouth, having gotten used to the routine by then.

"Yes, such a good whore," Voldemort murmured. He had taken to using the word 'whore' as a kind of pet name for Harry and praising him with it. Harry hummed and closed his eyes, bobbing his head and sucking harder for him. Now, it wasn't so much about just getting it over with, it was more about what would make his Master moan louder in pleasure. Voldemort held on to the arms of the chair, panting and muttering, until he came, filling Harry's mouth. Harry had learned not to choke when his Master came like this, carefully swallowing the liquid and continuing to suck until he was done. Then he pulled back and sighed softly, resting his head back on Voldemort's leg.

"Can I come, please?" Harry whispered a few minutes later, using one hand to gently stroke Voldemort's robes. The Dark Lord had been allowing him to come nearly every time he pleasured him.

Voldemort nodded, laying his hand on Harry's head as he released him. Harry shuddered and moaned softly, gripping the robes as he came. "Thank you," he whispered, slowly relaxing and loosening his hold on the robes.

Harry lost a sense of how long he had been a captive, let alone in Voldemort's bed. There was a measure of peace now that he hadn't had before. Voldemort took his pleasure from him several times a day and because he released the binding then, Harry was in less pain, though no less needy. He was never present for strategy meetings and so the information he had about the war was only from comments said by the Death Eaters. There were apparently high losses on both sides.

Then it happened. The night they caught Lucius' killer. They dragged her in bound in chains, blood dripping already from cuts she had apparently received while being taken prisoner. Harry didn't look up from where he was kneeling down next to Voldemort with his head in his lap, hearing the chains and automatically knowing that it had to be yet another one of the prisoners they were bringing in to torture.

"Harry!" Tonks yelled.

Harry looked up and around, his eyes widening at the sight. "Tonks," he said, his eyes huge and looking back at Voldemort in confusion.

Voldemort ignored Harry, his own eyes gleaming angry red at the woman. "Take her apart," he hissed, and the others began to rip away her clothes.

"No," Harry cried out, unable to look away. He moved to get up suddenly, but he was chained to the ground, which frustrated him. "Stop it!"

Voldemort's fingers grabbed Harry's hair, holding him in place as they brought Tonks to the ground. Harry winced and looked back up at Voldemort. "Please make them stop," he begged, reaching to grip his Master's robes.

The Dark Lord twisted his hand in Harry's hair, pulling hard. "Silence, whore," he hissed. They had begun to rape her now and Tonks was screaming obscenities at the Death Eaters who held her down.

Harry whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, reaching up to press his hands against his ears. "You're hurting her .... "

After a while, there were no words anymore, just agonised screams that seemed to echo around the room and the laughter of Death Eaters. Even with his hands pressed against his ears, Harry could hear the screams and they made him feel sick. He tried pulling his hair out of Voldemort's grip but it was useless. He was useless.

After what felt like forever to Harry, her voice broke, becoming ragged. There were choking sounds and Harry could still hear the sounds of the men hurting her now. Harry had no choice but to continue to listen, angry tears running down his face. He had begun, in some strange, twisted way, to trust Voldemort. This reminded Harry why he was even here in the first place – why he was taken as their whore – to humiliate him, to keep him in place so that he wouldn't do what he was supposed to do. Kill Voldemort. He gritted his teeth and vowed to do it, no matter what now. Not just for himself, but for the deaths of all the people he couldn't save.

They literally did what Voldemort said, eventually tearing her into pieces. Voldemort ordered what remained of Tonks' body burned.

After she was dead, Voldemort dragged Harry back to the room and what followed was brutal, painful and so much like the early rapes that Harry was left lying bleeding on the floor for the night. He was not allowed release or food. Even as Harry lay there in pain, he thought about how he would eventually kill Voldemort. He could only think of gaining his trust in order to get close enough. But he didn't have a wand or anything else for that matter. He'd have to think. He would have a lot of time to do that.

Harry didn't sleep much that night, but, as he had promised himself, he used the time thinking about what he would do. He decided that the best and only thing he could do was gain Voldemort's trust once more, after he had apparently lost it that night trying to get away and save Tonks. The next morning Harry pulled himself up and onto the bed. "Please forgive me, Master," he said, kneeling on the bed and then leaning down, pressing his forehead against the bed in a bow.

Voldemort stared at him for a bit. "You will still have to be properly and publicly punished, my pretty whore," he said.

"I deserve that," Harry said submissively.

"Good," Voldemort rewarded him by fucking him again. He wasn't allowed a release that morning, but he was given food. That day Voldemort let his followers use him for their sport again. It was somehow worse now after so much time only being used by the Dark Lord. By the end of the day he was in pain, exhausted and filthy. He trailed tiredly after Voldemort who immediately ordered him into the bath when they reached the suite again.

Harry sank down into the water with a shudder, cupping it in his hands and then splashing his face a few times. It was harder now that he had become used to just having days with Voldemort. It annoyed him to think that he'd been spoiled by the man. Harry only stayed in the tub for a while longer before he pulled himself out, shivering at the feel of the cold air before he crawled back into the room to face Voldemort again.

Voldemort seemed pleased, returning to their pattern of before, even allowing Harry his release after he fucked him. "Good whore," he hissed.

***

Harry stumbled into the bedroom and curled up on their bed, memories flooding him with pain and fear. He wanted to shut them out, lock them back wherever they had been hidden, but he was helpless to stop them now.

Draco padded into the room softly, removed his shoes and lay down beside him, resting one hand gently on Harry's back again. "I'm here, love," he whispered. "Right beside you, no matter what it is."

"I can remember," Harry sobbed, turning and pressing his face into the sheets, not caring how wet he got them.

"It's good that you do," Draco said, knowing it probably wouldn't feel that way.

"It isn't," Harry said, groaning as he remembered the beating he got the night after Tonks was killed.

"I know it hurts," Draco said. "It will help you heal." He lay there, rubbing Harry's back. "So they hurt her and killed her. But there's more, isn’t there?"

Harry sniffled and nodded, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Much more ....”

"Talk to me," Draco whispered. He didn't look forward to hearing more of the horrors Harry had endured. Yet, he would listen, for the other man's sake. If Harry could handle remembering, Draco would listen.

"He was mad at me for trying to help her," Harry whispered, swallowing hard.

"Voldemort?" Draco prompted.

"Master," Harry whispered, no longer sobbing. He opened his eyes slowly and stared straight ahead, as if he were seeing something that wasn't really there.

"He made you call him that ....”

"Master," Harry said again, still looking very distant.

"So after Tonks was killed, he hurt you ... but it wasn't the first time ....”

"No ...” Harry whispered. "But ... it was different ....” Harry could almost remember everything, and he didn't know how to feel about it now.

"How was it different?" Draco whispered, his stomach clenching as part of him realised that whatever it was would be very hard to hear.

"He let me take baths ... and fed me," Harry said softly, his eyes welling up with tears again as the feelings came back.

"Treated you as a human after you had been treated like an animal for so long," Draco whispered, understanding even if Harry didn't, the way that could warp a prisoner's perception.

"I was good.” Harry murmured. "I was a good whore ....”

Draco shivered at those words. "You pleased him so he rewarded you," he responded, wanting to deny what Harry was saying but his training was telling him he needed to keep him talking.

"And he let me come and ....” Harry stopped again, whimpering softly. "I had to ... I had to ....” He couldn't finish his sentence.

"Had to?"

"Kill Master," Harry whispered.

"You had to kill him ... but you ... you didn’t want to?" Draco asked, feeling sick now, but breathing carefully to control his reaction and his voice.

"He loved me," Harry said. "I know he did.”

Draco had to clench his jaw, his stomach roiling at the thought of the monster even touching Harry. Yes, he had known Voldemort had raped Harry, but ... to think of him being his lover was much worse in some ways. He took several deep breaths. "Because he treated you better than before, you came to feel he had affection for you,” he whispered.

Harry knew it sounded weird, but it was true. It was all coming back to him now, every night they had together, up to the night Harry killed him. "I loved him," he admitted softly. "I didn't want to kill him, but I had to."

"You loved ... _Him_?" Draco asked, his hand freezing involuntarily on Harry's back. This is why you weren't supposed to become involved with your patients. How could he be objective about this? How could he say all the right things when the man he was in love with just told him …?

"I told him ... and then I stabbed him," Harry said quietly. "But I always was a good and pretty whore for him. Always. When I was good, he didn't hurt me. That was good."

"I'm sorry," Draco gasped and rolled off the bed, making a dash for the door and to the bathroom.

Harry didn't seem to notice at first that Draco had left the room, too deep into his mind to be able to snap out of it just yet. Lost in another time and place.

Draco reached the loo and dropped to the floor, vomiting into the toilet. It was ridiculous. He had read the file, he should have expected something like this. He should have known. The truth was harder than he thought it would be.

Harry blinked and slowly sat up in the bed, feeling strange and lightheaded a good few minutes later. He wanted to sleep, but Draco wasn't around. "Draco?" he called out, slipping out of the bed and leaving the room, slowly walking down the hall. "Draco ... where are you?”

Draco got to his feet, flushing the toilet and splashing water on his face. "Here, Harry," he called out, voice hoarse.

Harry stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, biting his lip. "Are you mad at me?"

Draco was trembling still but he shook his head. "No, not mad at you," he gasped, still unable to look at Harry. It wasn't Harry's fault. Draco _knew_ that. He _knew_ it. But it still made him sick, made him hurt inside just thinking about it.

"Then what's wrong? I know I wasn't supposed to love him, I just ... I know it was bad," Harry explained.

Draco dried his face and hands and forced himself to turn around. "It's not your fault," he said aloud now. "You were a prisoner. You did what you needed to survive."

"I didn't need to love him to survive," Harry said softly, looking ashamed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very messed up...


	29. A Sacrifice of Love

Days, maybe weeks, went by again and Voldemort grew increasingly permissive with Harry – often petting him while he sat on his throne conducting Death Eater business. Even the sex seemed different, with the Dark Lord increasingly taking the time to fondle Harry either before or during the times he fucked him.

"On the bed," Voldemort ordered, dinner completed and rising from his chair. Harry moved up on the bed obediently, laying down and waiting for Voldemort to join him. Even with his plan, Harry had felt himself getting closer to his Master. Closer than he had ever thought would be possible – even with being the whore he obviously was.

Voldemort smiled, red eyes sliding over Harry's naked body. "On your back," he said.

It was an unusual command and startled Harry. He turned onto his back for him, looking curious as to what Voldemort had planned. The Dark Lord positioned himself between Harry's legs and, slicking his cock, began pushing into him. Voldemort had never faced Harry while fucking him like this and his red eyes were intent on Harry's face. Harry blinked up at him in surprise, his cheeks colouring and not in shame for once. He bit his lip and reached out to touch Voldemort's cheek, his hips tilting up as his legs opened wider.

"Yes, my pretty whore," Voldemort encouraged as Harry responded to him. He slid slow and deep, each thrust actually rubbing his body against Harry's cock in a way that the other positions didn't.

Sex with Voldemort had changed over the past few weeks, turning into something that Harry found himself enjoying. He whimpered softly and arched his back, wanting more. Voldemort kept thrusting, while Harry sighed and whimpered. When the Dark Lord came, instead of waiting until after, he released Harry at the same time. Harry's eyes widened as he came with a long moan, never having felt pleasure like this with his previous orgasms. Voldemort actually waited until both of them had finished shuddering before withdrawing and lying back on the bed.

Harry lay there for a few moments before he turned and moved closer to him, resting his head on Voldemort's chest. "Thank you," he whispered.

Voldemort tensed but then seemed to relax, putting one arm around Harry. "Yes, my whore," he whispered.

And it was all Harry wanted, to be held like this. "Master," he said lovingly, sighing and rubbing his cheek against his chest. It would probably hurt more than he had thought it would to kill him, but it had to be done.

The days that followed were actually some of the most pleasant Harry could remember. He ate well, was allowed to bathe and relax, and the Dark Lord allowed him his release as often as he was taken by him. The idea of killing Voldemort seemed less appealing, something that could wait. But then Voldemort began to keep Harry in the room with him when he held his strategy meetings. The Death Eaters had apparently taken over much of the Ministry. And now, thanks to a spy, they had the location of many of the Order of the Phoenix members. They planned to kill them all within the next two days.

Hearing the new plans made Harry remember his own, even though thinking about it now made his heart ache. Yet, he couldn't wait any longer. More people's lives were at stake, and he couldn't let it happen. He just couldn't. Too many lives had been sacrificed already.

Harry managed to take a knife during one of the dinners and stash it away, waiting until Voldemort left the room for yet another meeting before climbing back onto the bed and pushing it under one of the pillows. He would do it that night, before they killed more people, more people who had been Harry's friends. He just hoped he would be able to go through with it, to kill the man he hated and blamed for everything wrong in his life, yet ... had fallen in love with.

The Dark Lord was smiling when he returned. Harry could feel Voldemort was excited and happy with his plans. He climbed into the bed where Harry waited, murmuring his approval. His white hands touched and stroked Harry, taking his time before mounting him. Harry spread his legs and sighed at the feeling of him pushing inside, staring up at the other man the entire time. He waited until his Master was completely inside him before he leaned up, biting his lip and sliding one hand around the back of his neck in a soft caress. "Master?"

"Yes, my pretty whore," Voldemort gasped as he thrust into him again.

"I love you," Harry whispered, feeling the need to get it out before this was all over. It was his way of asking for forgiveness before he attacked.

"Good," Voldemort responded, smiling as he reached to caress Harry's face. His thrusts were deeper and faster now and Harry could tell he would come soon.

Harry felt his heart swell with love at the touch, nearly stopping and thinking that maybe it wasn't worth killing him, that he _could_ sacrifice the others' lives for this feeling. Yet, Harry had never been selfish and he wouldn't start now. He turned his head and kissed Voldemort's fingers gently, knowing how close he was. How close to being dead, as well. Harry reached under the pillow for the knife once he was sure that Voldemort wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, gripping it in his hand.

"Yesss, Harry," Voldemort gasped, moments away now.

Harry slowly pulled the knife out and blinked away the tears that were welling up in his eyes, thinking about what good he'd get from this. Or at least the good that everyone else would get from this. "I love you," Harry gasped again, gritting his teeth and raising the knife, leaning up and using all of his strength to stab Voldemort in the neck, letting out a small cry of pain himself.

Voldemort's eyes had been half closed, but now they popped open wide and his hand reached blindly for the knife embedded in his throat. He gurgled, apparently unable to scream, and objects in the room began to fly around wildly.

Harry froze for only a moment, his eyes wide at what he had done. He wanted to say that he was sorry, to try and fix everything back to normal, but it was too late for that. He quickly scrambled out from under Voldemort and reached for the wand his Master always laid on the side table and pointed it at the man, swallowing before he spoke. "Avada Kedavra!" Harry screamed.

Voldemort had rolled to his side when Harry had shoved him off, reaching a hand out to Harry, his face a mask of shock and anger. The green light enveloped him and the room was suddenly still and silent. Voldemort was dead.

***

Draco took a shaky breath, and then reached for Harry's hand, leading him back to their room. He perched on the edge of the bed, pulling Harry down to sit beside him. Draco simply sat there, staring at the wall for a minute. He felt lost and sickened, unable to decide what he should do now.

Harry sat there quiet and motionless, staring at the floor. That was what he couldn't remember, the final secret that he didn't know he had been keeping. Draco always said that it was good to talk about what had happened to him, but something like confessing that he had been in love with a monster that lived to torture him was just too much. Harry bowed his head while covering his face with both hands, beginning to cry again.

Draco shivered, still struggling with his own feelings about this revelation. But when Harry began to cry, his own fears and revulsion seemed petty. He put a hand to his lover's back once more, rubbing and offering comfort if Harry wanted it.

Harry turned and pressed himself against Draco, crying harder while seeking safety from his own memories. He didn't want to remember now.

Draco felt like his heart would break as Harry sobbed against him. As a Healer he should push Harry to recount the rest of it, but as his lover he just wanted to comfort him. He didn't want to know the details or make Harry relive it. He forced himself to think about the long term, about Harry's health. The blond started to speak several times before he managed it. "How did you kill him, Harry?" he asked, voice trembling as he did.

Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat, shuddering softly at the memory of that night. "I ... we were ...” He let out another sob, having to stop so he could catch his breath. "I waited and then ... I told him. Then I ... I stabbed him."

"You were ... he was ... on top of you when it happened?" Draco asked, shuddering again.

"Inside me," Harry whispered, biting his lip harder. "He gave me this look right before I said the Killing Curse ... I almost wanted to stop and beg for forgiveness, but I didn't ....”

Draco shook then, rocking Harry, arms around him and tears falling on his own face now. It was a horror and Draco didn't know how Harry could bear remembering. He truly understood now why Harry's sanity had cracked and his mind had suppressed the memory. He was speechless for a moment.

"And then I said it," Harry continued, tears still running down his face. "And everything ... everything went quiet and I wanted to take it back, I remember that ....”

Draco let him continue, let him finally tell his story. The blond was surprised to realise it hurt more to hear this than it had to hear about his own father's death. It hurt in a terrible way to know that a man he loved had gone through these horrible things. And it felt wrong, sickening, to hear Harry talk about loving that monster even after he had killed him. Draco was a trained Healer, he knew the psychological effects of torture and imprisonment. He knew it. And still it twisted like a knife in his gut.

"I stayed there for a long time, just watching him ... and then I left," Harry whispered, closing his eyes. The rest was a little more blurry, but he remembered getting out of where he was being kept by using Voldemort's wand, killing anyone who got in his way and then ... next thing he knew he was found and sent to St Mungo’s. He stopped talking not long after that.

Tears continued down both their cheeks and Draco didn't even try to stop himself from crying now. He pulled back enough to look into Harry's face. "Harry, do you think you really loved him? Do you understand what love really means?"

"He was nice to me," Harry said after a few minutes, opening his eyes to look at Draco. "He ... he cared ...."

"Being a little nicer to someone you have tortured is one of the ways they get you to believe they care, to make you do what they want, Harry. The Dark Lord wasn't capable of love," Draco tried to explain. "If he really loved you, would he have continued to use you the way he did?"

"That was how he showed me," Harry said, feeling confused. He closed his eyes, remembering all those little moments with the man.

"He kept you naked, chained and drugged. He not only raped you but encouraged others to do so, Harry," Draco whispered, stomach clenching at the images in his mind. "I believe, that if you love someone, you want what is best for them. I am glad he wasn't as brutal toward the end, and that you found a way to live through it all." The blond paused, swallowing hard and caressing Harry's face with one hand. "You deserve love, Harry."

Harry winced when he realised the truth of Draco's words. He didn't want to believe, but .... "He didn't love me?" he asked quietly, looking down at his lap. "He let me take baths and he fed me and ... and ... I only had to be good ...."

Draco swallowed back the lump in his throat and the sob that would have followed it. "You deserve love, real love, that doesn't make you have to perform and debase yourself. Voldemort was never capable of giving that. He wanted you to serve his needs, his ego and his sick desire to hurt and control. Harry, do you think you have to earn the right to eat or sleep or be free of pain?"

"I ... I don't have to anymore," Harry answered softly, looking up at Draco. "Right?"

Draco cradled Harry's cheeks with both hands now. "No, never again. No one has the right to hurt you or starve you or use you again. And I mean no one, not even those who think it is for some 'greater good'."

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, things starting to somehow fall into place. Voldemort couldn't have loved him. If he did he wouldn't have punished him so badly when he did something wrong. He wouldn't have given him that potion that had him drugged that entire time, but no, he did all that and worse. "He didn't love me ... but then ... why did I ... love him?"

This is where Draco was grateful that he had training in this. It didn't make him hurt less, but at least he understood. "I think you needed to believe it was love, to help you get through it all. Did it seem easier to be with him when you thought that?"

"I ... think so. It was easier to do as he said, at least," Harry murmured, biting his lip gently.

"You needed love, even if it wasn't real love, to help you keep living through that nightmare," Draco whispered. "And you are strong to have been able to do that. Someday you may find you can have someone worthy of your love, Harry."

"Someday," Harry said softly, watching Draco as he leaned in closer to rest his forehead against the other man's. "Soon, I hope."

"You amaze me," Draco whispered. "You survived so much."

"But at what cost?" Harry asked quietly, feeling and looking drained.

"The cost was too high," Draco agreed. "But it is already paid. It's over." He stroked Harry's hair off his face.

"It's over," Harry repeated, letting out a long sigh. "I don't know how I'll be able to forget now, though."

"You don't forget this time," Draco whispered. "You let it go, let it be part of your past. It's the only way you can have a future."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The worst is out!


	30. Dreaming

It was bright and sunny. Harry was in the middle of a large field, the grass greener than he'd ever seen. At first he thought he was alone until he turned around and saw Draco, a large grin on the man's face. He held out his hand for Harry who took it without hesitation. And then they were running, but it wasn't that they were running from something or someone, they were just running for the fun of it and then Harry felt as though he were floating, but no, he was flying, his hand still tightly gripping Draco's.

Suddenly it wasn't just him and Draco anymore. He saw his friends, Ron, Hermione, and even Ginny, all of them flying alongside them, waving and grinning at him. Harry let go of Draco's hand and waved back, feeling happy and carefree. He didn't realize that he was floating back towards the ground until his feet touched the grass again. A quick look around and Draco was walking ahead of him, toward a house he hadn't seen before. Draco turned and beckoned him closer, and Harry followed. Of course he did.

The scene changed quite suddenly and Harry was sitting at a table inside the house now, with Draco beside him. But they weren't alone. His friends were there – Hermione and Ron, Ginny and her husband, and all the Weasleys. Mrs Weasley was laying food on the table while Mr Weasley talked with Remus. Then there were kids, most of them ginger-haired, but there was a little girl with white-blond hair and a boy with black hair and green eyes. Harry smiled at their children and leaned in to kiss Draco.

***

Harry woke, safe in Draco's arms and with a smile on his face. It had been the best dream he could ever remember. A dream filled with hope and promise. Most of all, a dream revealing the kind of love he had been seeking all of his life. Harry slowly raised up and, propping his elbow on the bed, rested his head in the palm of his hand. Draco slept on, his face smooth and relaxed, nearly glowing in the soft moonlight streaming in through the window. Harry's eyes drank in the silky hair, the dark lashes resting on pale cheeks, the mouth that soothed him with soft words and claimed him with burning kisses. He saw a man that would never punish him, starve him or even betray him.

Harry's eyes slid closed as he recalled laying in the arms of another man and believing that what he felt was love. And maybe, Harry thought, it _was_ some form of love. But it was tainted and wrapped in pain, lies and fear. Harry shivered slightly as he finally understood what Draco had been trying to explain to him. He had tried to love Voldemort because he needed an anchor to keep him from drifting away forever, but he had not been loved in return. He had been owned; he had been used. But Voldemort was never going to love him. Harry swallowed tightly before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes to gaze once more at the man now sleeping beside him. This, Harry realised, is love. Draco had stood by him when he had been nothing but wreckage from the war. He had picked him up every time he'd fallen, and patiently taught him how to pick himself up. He saw every scar Harry wore inside and out and still called him beautiful. Harry reached one hand out to gently trace his fingers over the perfect lips that brought him so much pleasure. Draco sighed softly in his sleep and moved in closer to Harry.

Leaning over, Harry placed a kiss on Draco's sleeping mouth and whispered into his lips, "I think I could love you forever, Draco."

Pulling himself back, Harry continued to watch Draco sleep. I could have a chance for a real future with this man, Harry thought. His lips curved into a tiny smile as he replayed the images from his dream. For the next couple days, every time he thought about it, he smiled. Maybe it was possible to have a life like that, and maybe it wasn't. What he was certain about was that he wanted to try.

***

The day after Remus' visit, they had sent an owl apologising to Remus and inviting him to dinner sometime soon. Draco also found out who at the Ministry was in charge of tracking death records and arranged to have Nymphadora Tonks officially declared dead and listed among those lost in Voldemort's war. It would take a while, and Harry would have to give a statement, but at least her family could finally know what had become of their daughter. Draco found himself thinking a lot about her – the cousin he never really knew and who had meant so much to Harry. He wondered what she would think of the situation now. He was brooding on that when Harry found him at his desk.

"I've been thinking," Harry said, once he saw him, leaning against the desk. He had been doing a lot of thinking recently, but this was something important that he wanted to bring up.

Draco pushed away the darker thoughts and smiled up at Harry, his heart always seeming to swell when he looked at him. "What is it, love?"

Harry looked down at Draco for a long quiet moment. "You know how you said I get to choose my future now?"

Draco nodded. "Yes."

"I have been thinking about moving on with my life," Harry said, "and how you aren't my therapist anymore."

Draco swallowed hard. "You are getting better," he whispered. "You won't need me anymore when you are well. I understand that."

"But I'll want you," Harry continued, looking down at him. "I'll want to be with you. I'll want to see you, I'll want to talk to you, I'll want to argue with you about stupid things. I'll want to wake up in your arms for the rest of my life."

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, trembling. Then he opened them, looking into Harry's green eyes. "The rest of your life?" he asked. He needed to hear it, to know how Harry felt about him.

"Well," Harry said. "I choose you. You are my future."

Draco's eyes widened and his heart sped up. "Me?" he asked.

"Don't look so surprised," Harry said softly, smiling. "Do you want to stay with me?"

Draco shivered, happier than he thought possible. He back smiled up at Harry. "Yes, together."

Harry hopped up onto the desk, turning to face him. "So, do you want to live _here_ with me, or ... somewhere else?"

Draco nearly laughed at the way Harry climbed onto the desk. He smirked. "You don't like it here?" he asked.

"I do, I just .... It has a lot of memories, and ... I don't want to forget them," Harry said purposely, remembering what Draco said, "but I do want to move on. I want to start over somewhere fresh."

Draco nodding, thinking about it. "Some place with more light and maybe some nice places to eat nearby," he suggested.

Harry smiled and nodded, looking excited. "That's a good idea then?"

"Why not? You're right. Time to start new and find someplace that you want to live," Draco answered.

"Really?" Harry asked. "When should we start looking?"

"Do you want to live in the countryside or in the city?" Draco asked.

Harry bit his lip and tilted his head to the side, trying to think about where would be better. He would've liked the country better, just because there probably weren't a lot of people around, but at the same time ... the city seemed more busy and alive. "I don't know," he finally said. "Why don't you pick that one?"

Draco arched an eyebrow and got to his feet, leaning in to kiss Harry. "If we are planning our lives together, we should make the plans together," he said softly.

"Well, where do you think is better?" Harry asked, wanting his opinion as well.

"Well, distance doesn't matter a lot since we can Floo or Apparate," Draco said. "In the city, there are always people to watch, things to do. Yet, in the countryside it is quieter and we might have more time together. Either way, a place with a garden would be nice."

"The countryside then," Harry said firmly, thinking that if he wanted more to do, Draco was right, he could always just Apparate or Floo to the city.

"So we contact an estate agent and buy a small house in the country," Draco said. "If that works for you?"

"That sounds just fine," Harry said, smiling brightly at him.

Draco kissed him and sat down at the desk again, picking up his quill. "What do we want in this house of ours?"

"A dog," Harry said, moving to slide into Draco’s lap. "Can we?"

Draco gasped and wrapped his left arm around Harry's waist. "Certainly, if you are willing to look after it," Draco said. "So that means the country is a good choice. More room for the animal. How big of a house do we want?"

"Not that big, right? It'll just be you and me and the dog, unless ...." Harry stopped and shrugged, relaxing against him. "Well. That's it."

"Unless?" Draco arched an eyebrow.

"Unless there was someone else with us," Harry replied like it wasn't a big thing.

Draco grinned, curious now. "Like who?"

"Like ... I don't know. Kids," Harry murmured.

Draco's eyes widened. "You want children?"

"Not now," Harry said, leaning back to look at him. "I mean ... maybe eventually."

Draco wrapped his arms around him, kissing Harry. He pulled back to smile at him. "House in the country, with a dog and children," he listed. Then smiled. "Sounds good to me." He had no idea how they would get children, but he figured he could at least find the house to start with.

"Really? You wouldn't mind any of that?" Harry asked, looking a little confused and surprised at the same time.

Draco felt such a swelling of love and desire and happiness that he felt like crying again. "I think it sounds perfect," Draco told him. "I have never wanted anything more than being with you, Harry."

"That's all I want," Harry said softly, smiling and sliding his arms around Draco, hugging him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured it out!


	31. Loveable

_You make me feel so beautiful_  
 _Nowhere else in the world I wanna be_  
 _You make me feel so beautiful_  
\-- from "So Beautiful" by Darren Hayes

 

Draco had never been more grateful for having a house-elf than on moving day. It was hard enough work packing and unpacking, but the elf Apparated every box to their new home.

The house was a lovely cottage on several acres of land in southern England. It had stone walls outside and lovely woodwork inside. It had four bedrooms and a study, as well as a large kitchen and formal dining room. The best part was the large windows, charmed to control the temperature but still let in plenty of light.

They had taken very little in the way of furnishing from the Black house, choosing to decorate in a country style that fit the new home. It was autumn now and the leaves on the trees around the house were gold and red. Draco stood on the porch admiring the sunset.

Harry had just finished looking through every single room in the new house, including the bathrooms, when he stepped outside onto the porch, spotting Draco. "It's really beautiful," he said, standing next to him and looking out at the view. "All of it. I never thought I'd be this lucky and happy after everything that's happened."

Draco reached a hand out for Harry, pulling him close. "You deserve happy," he said.

"So do you," Harry replied, sliding his arms around Draco. "We're both happy. Together."

"Exactly," Draco said, pulling him over to sit on a swing seat on the porch. He held Harry while they watched the sun set.

Harry lay down as they watched, his head in Draco's lap. Even as Harry lay there, his mind was far away. He had been thinking about going to the next level in their relationship for a while now, but he could never ask Draco to do it. Now he thought he was ready. "Draco," Harry whispered, sitting up and taking the other man's hand before getting up off the swing. He turned to walk back into the house, pulling Draco with him.

Draco felt Harry's mood shift, heart speeding up a bit in excitement as his lover drew him into the house.

Harry went up the stairs and into their new bedroom, only then letting go of Draco's hand to turn around and smile at him, taking a few steps back towards their big bed. "I've been thinking," he began, reaching to pull off his shirt and drop it on the floor. "About you, like always ....”

Draco's heart seemed to flutter and he took a breath. "Good," he said, voice full of his affection. He watched with hungry eyes as Harry undressed.

"And ... I've decided that I want you," Harry said, undoing his jeans and pushing them down. "Well ... no, I always want you, what I meant is ...." He took a deep breath and pushed off his underwear, getting up on the bed and moving back so that he was in the centre of it. "I want you to take me."

Draco trembled, finally remembering to move. He walked forward slowly, gaze intent on his lover as he removed his own clothes. "I love you," he whispered, as he climbed onto the bed.

"I love you, too," Harry said softly, eyes widening in wonder at his own ability to say it now. The words sounded strange, yet right coming out of his mouth. "Make love to me. Show me how much you love me ....”

Draco froze, eyes wide at the words. He knew Harry cared for him, wanted him, but Harry had never said 'I love you' before. "Oh, yes," he whispered, voice husky with his emotions. He took Harry into his arms, kissing him passionately.

Harry kissed Draco back the best he could, his arms sliding around him to hug him tightly. "I love you," he whispered against Draco's lips over and over, getting used to saying it after only thinking it for so long.

"Yes, my love, yes,” Draco encouraged, kissing him over and over again as he caressed his lover's body, hands stroking and kneading him.

Harry smiled, letting his head fall back as he let Draco just take care of him.

"I love you so much," Draco gasped, kissing and licking his lover's body, working his way downward now, sucking on his nipples and reaching to caress Harry's cock.

"Oh, Draco," Harry moaned, arching his chest and thrusting up into his hand at the same time. He was still worried about going all the way with Draco today, but it definitely wasn't the same as before. He was getting better, he really was.

Draco licked his lover's stomach, following the line of soft hair from his belly button until he could bury his face in the thatch of hair at the base of Harry's cock, nuzzling and licking him as his hands caressed his hips.

Harry gasped and groaned, his hips rocking on the bed as Draco pleasured him. "More, please," he whispered, hands reaching out blindly to grip the sheets of the bed to try and prepare himself.

"I'm not just going to fuck you, love," Draco said, long fingers caressing and spreading Harry's thighs apart. "I want to make love to you."

Harry knew now there was definitely a difference between the two acts, and Harry preferred the lovemaking. "And you'll go slowly," he whispered softly.

"Yes, and stop if you want me to," Draco assured him. He then began laying kisses on his lover's cock, fingers of one hand caressing his balls as he did.

Harry wasn't planning on stopping, but he nodded, showing that he understood what Draco was saying. He was beginning to lose his patience – he was eager, but he didn't want to go too fast, wanting the moment to be special.

"Yes, Harry, I love you," Draco whispered, licking and nuzzling his lover's cock. His fingers slid down to gently run his fingers over the puckered opening, tracing every ridge by touch.

Harry's breath hitched as he felt the fingers, but he didn't tense and try to get away, quickly getting used to the feeling. "I love you more," he said, lifting his hips slightly.

Draco reached for the oil beside the bed, slicking his fingers. He massaged the oil into that slick opening as his mouth closed over the head of Harry's cock.

Harry groaned and rolled his hips a few times, wanting so much more than what he was getting. "I'm okay," he whispered, tangling his fingers in the bedsheets.

Draco sucked on Harry's cock, pressing a finger into him at the same time.

Harry clenched around the finger as it moved inside him, biting his lip gently. He was okay with this part, but they had never gone past this point before.

Draco moved his finger in and out and then added a second finger, stretching Harry as he did. He twisted them, feeling for that spot that would bring more pleasure for Harry.

Harry jerked when he felt the extra bit of pleasure, moaning loudly. "Again," he gasped.

"Mmm," Draco hummed in agreement around his lover's cock, continuing to finger Harry until he was stretched enough for a third.

"Draco," Harry whimpered minutes later, feeling himself trying to press down on Draco's fingers without really noticing it. "I think I'm ready ....”

Draco released Harry's cock and withdrew his fingers, smiling up at him. He moved up into place, oiling his cock as he did. "You sure, love?" he said, trembling as he rubbed the head against his lover's opening.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, flinching slightly when he felt Draco's cock. He had to keep telling himself that Draco loved him, and that he would never hurt him. The thought calmed him down and he nodded slowly. "I ... I'm sure ....”

"I love you so much," Draco whispered, watching Harry's face carefully as he gently pushed forward, breaching him, and then pausing.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut once again, wincing at the extra burn that came along with the stretch.

Draco didn't move yet, waiting for Harry to adjust. He stroked his lover's thighs and hips.

Harry was surprised to feel that Draco was waiting for him to adjust, but then again he really wasn't, remembering the difference between Draco and the others. He did acclimate to the stretch after a few minutes, looking up at Draco and nodding silently, waiting for him to continue.

Draco gently slid into his lover, feeling the man's body spasm around his cock as he did. "You mean everything to me," he whispered.

Harry was trying his hardest not to think of anyone else but Draco, but somewhere in the middle of it all his eyes slid shut and he was somewhere else, looking up into Voldemort's red eyes instead of Draco's grey ones. He shuddered and tensed, going still.

Draco froze. "Harry, it's me. I need to you to look at me, to know who you are with," he said urgently.

Harry heard Draco's voice somewhere in the distance and it made him push away his memories and open his eyes, blinking up at Draco. He looked confused at first and felt disoriented, but then he began to relax, calming down.

"I want to make love to you," Draco said, still not moving. "If you aren't here with me, I can't do that."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, feeling bad. "I'm with you. I know I am ....”

"No apologies, my love," Draco said, bending over him and kissing him again, hands sliding over his skin.

"Move," Harry whispered as they kissed, tilting his hips up a little and bracing himself. He wasn't in any kind of pain at all, his body was already used to the stretched feeling inside him.

Draco began to rotate his hips, sliding gently back and into Harry again, kissing his face as he did.

Harry stayed quiet at first, watching Draco as he moved. His head tilted up to accept the kisses, and he found that he enjoyed this, enjoyed doing this with someone he loved as much as Draco. And somewhere in that moment, Harry found himself. "I love you," he whispered, reaching up and sliding his arms around Draco so that he could pull him closer. "Make it feel better ....”

"It's me inside you, no one else," Draco breathed as he pumped his hips, gasping as he felt his cock inside Harry. He did his best to shift until he could brush against that spot for his lover.

Harry gasped, his back arching. "Oh, only you," he moaned, wanting to feel it again.

Draco held Harry, looking into his face as he continued to work his cock over his lover's prostate, trying to control his pace now as his own arousal grew stronger. "Yes, my love, yes," he gasped.

Harry whimpered and closed his eyes again, but this time he didn't see anyone else. He heard Draco's voice and he could feel him everywhere. "So good," he whispered, beginning to move his body with him.

"Yes, fantastic," Draco responded. "Touch yourself, come with me."

Harry had an idea of what Draco meant, but he didn't even need to do that, just needing a few more thrusts for him to come. "I'm already close," he said. "Harder!”

"Yesss," Draco gasped. He had been holding back not to rush or hurt Harry, but now let himself thrust in earnest.

Harry was surprised once again by the sheer pleasure that was going through him once Draco stopped holding back. He was close and he wanted to come, but for some reason he didn't think he could yet. "Can I ... can I come, please?"

"Yes, yes, come, love!" Draco cried out, body shaking as he reached his own release.

Harry came a moment after Draco did, moaning Draco's name as his back arched off the bed. It felt better than any of the other orgasms he'd ever felt, including the ones where he didn't have a spell constantly holding him back.

"Harry, my love," Draco gasped, holding his lover through the aftershocks and kissing his face, cradling his head gently as he did.

"Love you," Harry whispered, reaching up for Draco as they kissed.

"Yes, you can love me, Harry," Draco whispered against his skin. "You can trust me, love me, be with me."

"Forever?" Harry asked, already sure of the answer, but he wanted to hear Draco tell him again.

"As long as I live, I will be with you," Draco promised. "I swear to love you forever."

"Thank you so much," Harry whispered, his arms tightening around Draco as he hugged him close.

Draco held and petted him until they both calmed down, continuing to plant little kisses on his face. "So, when you are ready, I actually have a present for you."

"You didn't have to get me anything," Harry said, even as his eyes betrayed him as they shone with curiosity.

Draco rolled off him and out of bed. "I know I didn't," he said with a smirk and held out his hand.

"But you did anyway," Harry said, reaching for his hand and getting out of the bed. “Do I need clothes?”

"No one but us for another mile but if you would feel more comfortable," he answered.

“I’m okay with just you,” Harry said, stepping closer.

Draco picked up his wand with his other hand and then led them out the back door, onto the porch and to a small shed in the back garden. "Open it," he said.

Harry looked at the door and then back at Draco before he cautiously stepped forward to pull open the door and look inside.

At first he didn't see anything, but Draco flicked his wand, releasing the charm. There on the floor, with a red bow around his neck, was a puppy.

Harry gasped before he went down on his knees in front of the puppy, a beautiful golden retriever with yellow silky fur. “A puppy, Draco!” he said, as if it weren’t obvious.

"Our puppy," Draco said smugly, delighted with Harry's reaction.

Harry grinned and scooped him up in his arms, looking over his shoulder at Draco. “What should we call him! Er, is it a boy or a girl?”

"Male, and he needs you to give him a name," Draco responded.

Harry bit his lip in thought, looking back at the puppy in his arms. “You need a name, hmm.” Harry leaned in closer and whispered one into his ear, and the animal barked as if agreeing with whatever Harry said. “Yeah, I like that, too. Snuffles.”

Draco looked confused but shook his head and knelt beside Harry. "Snuffles it is then," he said. "But when we get a kid, I get to name him."

Harry laughed softly and nodded, petting Snuffles. “That’s perfectly fine with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have reached the end of the novel, _Undesirable_. We hope you have enjoyed it. Please comment and tell us about your experience reading it. And feel free to read other works by [](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/profile)[**slashpervert**](http://slashpervert.livejournal.com/) and [](http://aveeno-baby.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://aveeno-baby.livejournal.com/)**aveeno_baby**.
> 
> There is a sequel, _Unexpected_. I will try to upload it soon.


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